By Chance or As Fate Would Have It
by loudmouthgeek
Summary: Quinn's looking for change in her routine when she runs into a recently dumped Artie. AU after "New York" Quartie, Brittana, eventual Faberry friendship.
1. A Blind Date Gone Sideways

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: I'm still writing "What's Your Fantasy?" The next chapter is nearly done. The developing Quartie plot thread in that story gave me the idea for this one, and I just needed to get it out since it was taking up precious real estate in my brain. I have no idea how often this story will be update, probably not as often as the other.**

**This is set in the summer between Season Two and Three. Everything in the show is canon unless or until I decide I need it not to be. Could possibly fit into the same universe as "Things Santana Doesn't Do" but probably won't have much to do with that story even if I do establish it officially. So, without further ado…**

**Chapter 1**

**A Blind Date Gone Sideways**

Quinn Fabray was running late… like really late, half an hour late already and she was furious with herself. She was never late. Punctuality had been drilled into her head from a very young age and it was something that had stuck with her through the years. Of course there were times when she was late, but only when it was _understood_ that she would be late. She was always a least an hour late to any party she attended, so that she could be fashionably late, and naturally when she was pregnant last year, she had been late to a great many things, early on because of near constant morning sickness and later because it just took her forever to get anywhere when she was huge and pregnant and her everything hurt all the time.

Those were times when it's either expected or forgivable to be late. This was not. This was a date. A date arranged by her mother with the son of a friend of the family no less. She was expected to be prompt and make a great impression. It was the "making an impression" part that precipitated her present lateness. She'd gone to the salon… or what passes for a salon in Lima, at any rate… to get her hair styled. Two weeks after she'd gotten the bulk of her hair lopped off in New York, Quinn still found she didn't really know what to do with it other than just push it out of her face with a headband. The stylist had taken far too long, in Quinn's opinion, to do as little as he actually did. Next time she would just conference call Mercedes and Kurt and ask their thoughts. When she left the salon, she found herself parked in by a delivery truck making a stop at another one of the shops in the same building. She had no idea which shop it was and had to wait nearly ten minutes before the driver returned. As if that weren't enough, an accident on Main Street had traffic slowed to a crawl, so Quinn didn't reach The Lima Bean until 1:35. She was supposed to be there at 1:00.

When she did finally arrive, Quinn surveyed the crowd looking for anyone who was sitting alone. She had no idea what this guy looked like since apparently his mother is the only person on Earth who doesn't know how to text a picture to someone. Sam's five-year-old little sister could send a picture message, but not this woman. So she was stuck surveying the patrons of The Lima Bean, looking for a guy with dark hair and blue eyes who looks like he might answer to the name Aaron.

Not seeing anyone who fit that woefully inadequate physical description, Quinn switched tactics and consulted the baristas. "I know this is a huge long shot, but have you served a guy named Aaron in the last half hour or 45 minutes? He'd be about five-ten, dark brown hair, blue eyes… hopefully cute."

There was a bit of murmuring amongst them for a minute. Most of them were uncertain, since one o'clock on a Saturday was pretty busy times for them. They had likely turned out over a hundred cups of coffee in that time. However, there was one tiny redheaded girl who spoke up. "There was a guy sort of like that about 40 minutes ago. Dark hair, blue eyes, and cute are right, I don't think he said his name was Aaron though, and I'm not sure how tall he was," she said as she pointed to a table in the far corner, "cuz he's in a wheelchair."

Quinn looked in the direction the girl, Shannon, pointed. When the girl had said "wheelchair" she was certain she knew who she was about to be directed to, and sure enough in the far corner of the shop sat a rather forlorn looking Artie Abrams. Artie's first full name was Arthur and his middle name, Quinn seemed to recall, was John, so he definitely wasn't an Aaron, but it did start with an A and she also knew that her mom could be terrible with names at times. She was reasonably sure that her mom didn't know the Abrams Family, they weren't among Lima's well-to-do, and unlike Artie's parents her mom didn't come to Glee performances or football games, which meant the odds were next to nil that Artie was who she was here to meet. Still, you never know, right?

"Thank you," Quinn said to Shannon over her shoulder and made her way through the crowd. She was just going to make sure he wasn't her intended date and then leave… or maybe she'd see how he was dealing with his break-up and then she'd go. Not that she had anything she could really tell him about break-ups. Quinn had been broken up with three times, twice by Finn and once by Sam and although she'd been expecting it both times with Finn, they had both left her feeling like she'd been punched in the stomach my Mike Tyson. She was trying to think of something that wasn't some horrible platitude but her legs had carried her through the room too quickly. She reached the table far too soon for her liking, and she stood there not talking for over a minute, feeling more like a moron every second she didn't say something.

Artie looked up and saw the striking blonde standing over his table. "Quinn? Hey! You look great," he said suddenly trying to affect his usual carefree, optimistic demeanor, and then realized what it was he'd just said. "I mean, you know, nice. You look… I mean, you know, always look nice, but… you look really different with your hair and jeans and a t-shirt. Not bad, I mean. Like I already said you look great, stunning really. I mean… I'm just going to shut up now." He slumped his head down to tabletop in embarrassment.

Quinn couldn't help but be amused and flattered that she could render Artie quite so inarticulate. "Thank you, Artie," she said, "You aren't by any chance here because one or both of your parents set you up on a blind date, are you?"

"No," the boy said without lifting his head.

"Okay," Quinn replied, concern in her voice.

"Wait," he said raising his head, "you accepted a blind date with someone named Artie and _didn't_ clarify whether or not it was me ahead of time?"

Quinn sighed and plopped down in the seat opposite him, "Well, saying I 'accepted' this date would be a bit of a stretch. I was informed of it yesterday by my mother. I could have said no, but I'd have needed a pretty good reason and I honestly had nothing better to do. Also I was given a rough physical description, which you match, and the name Aaron, but my mother is sporadically horrible with names so it was possible that she meant Artie or Arthur."

"Well, you're welcome to join me until he gets here," he offered sincerely. "Although I don't know how good of company I'll be, I've been in kind of a huge funk since… since Brittany…"

"Yeah," she said, sparing him the need to finish, "I know. You don't have to talk about it, but you can if you want to."

"I… it's just all so confusing," the boy began. "Part of me is crazy pissed at her for picking Santana over me, but another bigger part wants to come up with some crazy scheme to win her back, show her that I'm better for her than Santana. I just, I don't know what I can do?"

Quinn slid a hand across the table and laid it across Artie's. "I'm sorry, Artie, but there's nothing you _can_ do."

"What?" he said hurt and a little bit of anger in his voice.

"Look, saying hurtful and mean things has kind of been my default setting for the last few years, and I'm still working on how to turn it off. I'm not sure how to say this without it coming off mean and hurtful, but you need to hear this, so please just understand that I don't _mean_ to be a bitch when I say this, okay?" the blonde implored.

"Okay," Artie said somewhat reluctantly.

"It doesn't matter what you try, you're not going to get Brittany back. She was only ever waiting on Santana to be ready for them. She's been in love with Santana for as long as either of them can remember and nothing's going to change that. And I know that's hugely unfair to you, but it is what it is, and I'd hate to see you spend your whole summer chasing after something that isn't going to happen. Again, if this sounds bitchy and mean, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be, it's just a reflex."

"No," he said, "you're fine. I mean, yeah, it's a little tough to hear but then brutal honesty usually is. So there's no chance of them breaking up, in your opinion?"

"Oh, I'm sure they'll break up, probably more than once, but Brittany will forgive Santana anything. They'll likely get in huge fights as Santana bucks against every label someone tried to put on her or them as a couple, but San will apologize and then there will be loud, obnoxious make-up sex and all will be right again with them."

Artie examined the table between them and Quinn's hand, still on his, nodding in understanding. He did his best to hide the hurt in his expression but Quinn, who had spent years trying to see the hurt, now couldn't avoid seeing it no matter how much she wished. "Which is not to say that she was using you, Artie, I know for a fact that she loved you, probably still does, and you were really good for her. She knows that."

Artie's bottled up pain and hurt finally became too much, tears welled in his eyes, and when they finally became too much to keep in any longer, the dam burst. Artie pulled his glasses off, dropping them on the table and brought both hands to his face as he began to cry. Quinn propelled herself from her chair around the table to sit next to him instead. She pulled his head to her chest, resting her chin on top of his head. "Oh God, Artie, I'm so sorry. I screwed up. I never know when to let things go. It's left over from my days as a professional bitch. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been the one to do this with you. I have no idea what I'm doing."

After a couple minutes, Artie had composed himself a little bit, so he lifted his head. "Don't be sorry, Quinn. You didn't do anything wrong." He retrieved his glasses and replaced them on his face. "I actually feel better, kind of a lot better, actually. Thank you. I think I really needed that."

Quinn smiled at him slightly, "Well, then, you're welcome, and I'm glad I could help you."

"At the risk of ruining this nice bonding moment we have going on, can I ask why you're doing this? I mean, not that I'm complaining. I'm just kind of curious is all."

"Oh, Artie, there is a very long, complicated answer to that question and I'll get into it if you want, but before I do, I really need something to drink. You want anything, my treat?" He just shook his head. He needed to eat. Quinn could tell just by looking at him that he hadn't eaten worth a damn in probably a week or two. "There's this really delicious looking Key Lime Pie up there that I really want to try, but it's far too fattening for me to eat an entire piece by myself. Will you split it with me?"

"Well," he said once again in his natural optimistic tone, "in the interest of helping you maintain a healthy physique, I would agree to that, but I'll need a bottle of water in that case. My iced coffee has become too watery and to be good coffee and too coffee-y to be good water."

Quinn couldn't help but laugh at that, as lame as it may have been. She figured he must be in better spirits if he's back to making really bad jokes. "I'll be right back," she said making her way back to the counter. She quickly rattled off an order for a tall house blend, a bottle of water, and the biggest slice of key lime pie they had. She paid and moved along to the pick-up area, collecting plastic forks and sugar for her coffee. Shannon, the tiny redhead, handed Quinn her order wordlessly.

Then from behind her came an unfamiliar voice, "Quinn?" She had a pretty solid idea who it was, but before she could react there was a strong hand on her shoulder. He said again, "Quinn Fabray?" She still didn't speak, just looked at the source. Tall, dark hair, blue eyes, _very _handsome, this had to be Aaron, almost an hour late. He continued, "Thank God, you're still here. I'm so sorry I am so terribly late. I was in an accident up on Main Street. I wanted to call you but I didn't have your number or even the number of the shop here."

Objectively, he was everything that Quinn went for in a guy. He was tall and handsome, good arm candy. He was well dressed in pressed slacks and a button-up shirt. He seemed to be well mannered, genuinely distressed at be so incredibly late. She should have been happy he was here. She should have been terribly concerned about his well-being since he just confessed to having been in a car accident. She should want him. But that was sort of the problem; he was kind of the same thing she'd done since she started dating, the same thing over and over expecting different results. It was time for a change she decided. She spoke at last, "I'm sorry. I think you have me confused for someone else. My name's Lucy. I hope you find the person you're looking for, but I have to go now. Excuse me."

**A/N: Like I say, I have more plans for the story, but I don't know how often I'll get to this story to update. I guess it will all depend on peoples' reactions, so if you want to see more write me some reviews.**


	2. The Happy List

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: Thanks to all those that read and alerted. Big thanks to those who reviewed. I'm glad that you guys enjoyed.**

**Chapter 2**

**The Happy List**

"So do you have to go?" Artie asked as Quinn was placing the pie the table.

"Do what?" Quinn answered, confused by the question.

"I saw you talking to that guy. That was your date right? The illusive Aaron?" Artie said taking a drink of his water.

Quinn returned to her seat beside Artie and said, "Oh, uh, yeah. That was Aaron, but, no, I don't have to go. I, uh… I kind of blew him off." Quinn took her fork and scooped a bite of the pie up into her mouth. The pie was exactly as delicious as it looked. Quinn couldn't help but sigh contentedly through closed lips.

"What? Why?" Artie asked thinking certainly he'd heard her wrong.

"I blew him off," Quinn repeated, "Gave him a fake name, well not a fake name, I told him my name was Lucy and that he had the wrong person."

Artie sat there astounded that someone, anyone had been blown off for him, and by Quinn Fabray, no less. "Did you… did you blow him off for me? I mean, cuz you didn't have to. We could have caught up later, or whatever."

"Eh," she started out slowly, "I did it a little for you but mostly for me. I just looked at him and saw tall and dark hair and he reminded me of Finn, and I saw his eyes and he reminded me of Sam, and I saw the way he was dressed and heard him talk and he reminded me of this guy Travis that I saw a couple of times last summer, another one of my mom's set-ups. I looked at all of that and saw three failed relationships, more-or-less two years of my life wasted on the wrong guys, and then I thought about what about what I just said to you about spending my entire summer on something that wasn't going to happen and I just had to get away. He was an hour late, hopefully he'll just assume he missed me, and I'll tell my mom that he stood me up and that'll be the end of it. Hopefully."

"Well," said Artie swallowing the bite he'd taken while Quinn was talking, "for my part, thanks. It'll afford me the opportunity maybe to explain my little outburst a minute ago. I mean, you probably don't care… or well, not that you don't care but maybe you don't think it needs explanation, but I wanted to anyway, so you understand fully."

Quinn simply said, "Okay."

"The whole 'I know Brittany loved you' thing touched on basically the biggest sore spot I had about this break up..."

Quinn rolled her eyes at herself and said, "Crap, I'm sorry, Artie. I meant that to make you feel better."

Artie jumped back in, "It did. The sore point was not being sure what I meant to her. She meant so much to me… means so much to me, and I really wasn't sure about what I meant to her. I mean, she told me she loved me a lot but she… I don't know…"

"She throws that word around a lot."

"Yeah," he said. Artie smiled at the shared understanding, "Yes, exactly, and she doesn't make the distinction between loving someone and being in love with someone very clear so for all I knew I was just one of the masses that she loves instead of something more special. So you saying that, it kinda took a weight off my mind. Like if we can't be together, at least she doesn't think that our time together was some complete waste to her."

Once again, Quinn put a hand on Artie's. "You weren't a waste of time, Artie. You helped her be her own person for maybe the first time in her life."

"What do you mean?" Artie said confused.

"Before you it was always 'Santana and Brittany' and Brittany always did whatever San did or whatever San wanted her to do. Dating you was the first thing Brittany did that she opted to do on her own, the first thing that Santana didn't want her to do, and she did it anyway. You know how I said that now San will apologize and Brit will forgive her anything?" Artie nodded. "Well, before you San didn't apologize. She would do something to hurt Brittany and Brit wouldn't talk to her for a day or so until she started to miss San, and then she'd just push her own hurt feelings down and go back to her. Brittany once said to me that being with you made her realize that she could be happy even if she and Santana didn't end up together. You made her willing to let San go, which forced Santana to do right by Brittany for the first time ever, and put them on something approaching a level playing field as a couple." Artie smiled at this. Quinn continued, "In this instance, you're not going to get the girl and I know that's not what you would prefer, but you have changed Brittany's life for the better."

Artie, smiling big and watery eyed, turned his hand in Quinn's, taking his in hers and squeezed. He said, "Thank you, Quinn. You don't know how much that means to me."

"I'm glad," she said. "Helps to make up for all the times you've helped me, even if you didn't realize you were."

"Okay, there's another thing that you're gonna need to elaborate on," he said.

"It's not another thing to elaborate on. It's the same thing, and that's as good a place as any to start. I'm happy to be here today, happy to listen to you unload because without you knowing it, you've been there for me through a lot of things because you and Mercedes sang 'Lean on Me' and I know the whole group sang it and it was Tina's idea originally. Mercedes explained all that to me, when I told her this, but the song was…" Quinn started getting choked up at the memory, "…it was _exactly _what I needed to hear _exactly_ when I needed to hear it, and you and 'Cedes did such an amazing job on it that it's really stuck with me. It's got me through some really, really rough times, and so because it's your voice, yours and Mercedes, in my head, I really feel like I owe you… a lot."

Artie smiled, "I'm glad to have helped, Quinn, but it was just a song…"

"Not to me it wasn't," she interrupted a very serious tone to her voice, "It was the most gracious outpouring of unconditional love that had or has ever been offered to me, even in spite of the fact that I'd done nothing to deserve it. It means something to me and I'm pretty sure it always will, and this year, when I let Sylvester talk us into quitting Glee, I thought about the song and I hated myself so much that it made me sick, like physically sick to my stomach. And I'm through being that person. I swear to God, if it kills me, I'm not going to go back to being that person: image obsessed, status obsessed, emotionally distant, and cold. I was never happy being her. I thought it would make me Prom Queen and _that_ would make me happy. You see how that worked out."

"So what brought on this decision?" Artie asked fascinated by the unprecedented forthrightness from Quinn.

"I don't think it was any one thing. I think I spent most of this year trying to pretend that last year didn't happen, so I could be Head Cheerio again, so I could be the most popular and powerful girl in school again. I pushed Kurt and Mercedes away. I stepped on Santana. I used Sam up until the second I thought that using Finn would better serve my purposes. Despite my obvious talent for it, I don't enjoy hurting people, so doing all those things made me nothing but miserable. There was no one thing that made me want to change but if there was a tipping point, it had to be Prom. I did all those things, I sacrificed personal happiness, and I spent the whole year obsessing over that _stupid_ fucking crown! It meant everything to me, and in the end it meant nothing to anyone else. Everyone else in this school cared so little about what meant so much to me that they used to play a cruel joke on one of the nicest, sweetest guys I know. I knew that no one would care who was Prom Queen five years from now, but I thought at least they would care now. But they didn't, and it was then I realized that it doesn't matter. Status in high school doesn't matter at all."

"It matters to some people, well a lot of people really," Artie countered.

"Well, okay, maybe it matters to people. Maybe the more accurate thing to say is that it's meaningless. In the bigger picture, the world outside of McKinley, is Rachel's extreme unpopularity going to stop her from achieving her dreams?"

"Doubtful," Artie replied.

"Would she be any _more _likely to achieve those dreams if she were popular?" Quinn asked.

"I don't guess so," Artie said after thinking on it for a long minute.

"Did my extreme popularity save me any embarrassment last year when I was pregnant?"

"Little, if any," he said.

"And we've already established that it didn't help me achieve the one goal I've ever had in my life. You took Econ with me this year, so if having something doesn't help you and not having it doesn't hurt you, does it have any intrinsic value?"

"Well, clearly not, but there is a certain extrinsic value. It lets you do whatever you want."

"But only if what you want falls within the parameters of 'being popular.' Puck can throw people in dumpsters, Karofsky can rain slushies down on people, Santana can be a rampaging bitch to whomever she wants, but if what I, in the paradigm of 'popular girl,' wanted was to join the AV Club or Jazz Band, would I remain a 'popular girl'?"

"I suppose not."

"Absolutely not, my social status started to decline from the moment I joined Glee Club, really from the moment Finn joined but definitely by the time I joined. The only reason I wasn't thrown from my perch as alpha dog immediately is because Santana and Brittany joined too. They were next in the pecking order so they also lost social currency just being there."

Artie snorted and laughed slightly. "My God, the ridonkulousness of this conversation," he said smiling and casting his hands to the sky. "I can't remember the last time I had a discussion with anyone that involved the words parameters, paradigm, social currency, or intrinsic or extrinsic values."

"And that's another thing. I can't be openly smart around the popular crowd. I have to work my butt off to get good grades and be top of our class… or at as close to top of the class as one certain bespeckled brainiac will allow me get," Quinn said hitching an eyebrow at Artie who smiled at her in return, "but I have to suppress my intelligence, my vocabulary, everything. I can be cunning and devious and underhanded to my heart's content, but heaven forbid I'm just smart for its own sake. Ugh!" Quinn grunted in frustration. "I'm done with it. I am _so _over being popular. I'm not going back out for Cheerios next year. I'm not chasing a Prom crown. I'm not dating a football player."

"So is that why you're spending the day with a nerd in a wheelchair?" Artie said teasingly.

"Well, kind of, yeah," Quinn replied, "I mean, you say being popular means I get to do whatever I want, but don't you do whatever you want? I know things are done to you by popular kids that you wish weren't, but of the things in your control, don't you do basically whatever you want? You're in Glee, you're in Jazz Band, you're in the AV Club, you're the captain of the Academic Decathlon Team, and you spent the bulk of this year dating a cheerleader. Did you do any of that because you felt like you were supposed to or did doing them just make you happy?"

"They… just make me happy," he said, almost sheepishly.

"And that's what I want. I want to do things that that make me happy and I want not to care what people think, people other than my friends that is."

"Okay," said Artie, "so what are the things that make you happy?"

"That I don't know. I've spent every second of the last three years trying to craft the image of Quinn Fabray that I've never bothered to find out what I actually like, but I've started a list of things. It's pretty short. Do you want to hear it?"

"Sure."

"Okay," she said retrieving her phone from her purse, quickly pushing buttons and pulling up a list. "Number One, Glee Club. Love singing and dancing and being around people who supported me through tough times. Number Two, my new look. I like my short hair and my skinny jeans. They make me feel sexy and I really like that feeling."

"Definitely sexy, yo," Artie put in with a flirty smile.

Quinn smiled at the compliment and continued, "Number Three, big one, New York. Once I loosened up and actually let myself enjoy it, I absolutely loved it. I want to go back. To college. I have no idea what I want to study or what I want to do with my life but I know where I want to go to figure it out."

Artie was fairly certain he'd never seen Quinn Fabray so excited about anything. Her face had suddenly lit up and become very animated. A huge, genuine smiled had stretched across her face and made her look positively radiant.

"Oh, and now I need to add, number four, having intelligent conversations with Artie." Now Artie's smile matched Quinn's.


	3. Adventures in Rule Breaking

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews. It means much. Keep telling me what you think. Make suggestions. I'm all ears.**

**Chapter 3**

**Adventures in Rule Breaking**

Over the next week, Artie and Quinn had spent a great deal of time either together or in contact with one another, whether through texts, IMs, on the phone, or in person. Much of the conversation was light, discussing the events of the day or sharing funny videos on YouTube, cracking jokes and tossing out the odd flirty line. They'd had coffee again on Thursday and the mood had been considerably lighter. Artie seemed, to Quinn's observation, to be in considerably better spirits after their initial encounter for which she was grateful. When he was his normal self, Artie's optimism and upbeat demeanor was infectious, and Quinn always felt better around Happy Artie.

Quinn's mother hadn't really been as understanding as Quinn had hoped about the whole Aaron Situation. After Quinn had blown him off, twice in the subsequent days, she tried to set them up on another date. Finally, Quinn had just sat her mother down and explained to that she didn't really want a boyfriend right now, preferring to figure out some things about herself for the time being. Her mother didn't understand at all, but agreed to ease off the set ups for the time being. For some reason Quinn couldn't adequately explain, she didn't tell her mother about her time talking to Artie. It probably had something to do with her mother's connection to what she was slowly coming to call The Old Quinn and Artie's key role in helping The New Quinn find her feet and not wanting to have to confront the disparity in the two… or maybe she was just afraid her mother would say something horrible about Quinn being friends with a guy in a wheelchair.

Friday night/Saturday morning about 2am the two were on the phone with one another watching Mad Men together as a party on Netflix when the show was suddenly paused. "What?" Quinn suddenly exclaims, "Give me a break! How could Peggy not know she was pregnant? I've been pregnant, trust me, you know."

"It was a different time, Quinn. The show's set in 1960, so Peggy would have been born about 1940 to 1942. Girls… women of the time weren't taught to understand their bodies like you are today."

"Oh come on," Quinn resisted.

"No, I'm serious. Sex Education was non-existent before the Progressive Era, and even then it was mostly only directed towards soldiers concerning the avoidance of STDs. By the mid-40's _some_ colleges offered what we know today as Human Sexuality classes, but they didn't make the jump to the high school level until the mid-60's, well after this season of the show is set."

"Trust me, Artie. She would know."

"Oh crap!" realization slapped Artie in the face all of a sudden. "Is this dredging up all sorts of bad memories?"

"A little," Quinn admitted quietly.

"God, I am so sorry, Quinn. I'm such a world class moron."

"It's okay, Artie. I just… it's just…" Quinn's voice trailed off. She was stuck. She had no idea how to express the emotions she was feeling, because how can you? How do you express the depth of emotion that was suddenly so raw and so real that Quinn was suddenly feeling dizzy and gasping for air?

And then Artie's voice cut through all of it in an instant. "Quinn, it's okay. Just breathe, okay?" Quinn took several deep breaths to calm herself down. "You okay? Your breathing sounds better."

"I'm okay," she said shortly.

"Listen, Quinn, it's like you said to me in the coffee shop, you don't have to talk about it, but we can if you want to. You know I'm here. You know I'll listen, always."

"I… I miss her," Quinn choked out. "Every day, I miss her. Some days it's a little and some days, like today, it's a lot. On the big days, I usually feel like I made a mistake giving her up, which in turn makes me feel guilty because I know I only want to keep her for selfish reasons because I know she's better off with Shelby. That makes me feel useless and pathetic since I couldn't even take care of my own child even if I wanted to, and I just feel like such a coward for running away from my responsibilities."

"Now that's just ridiculous," Artie said.

"What?" Quinn said with no small amount of hurt in her voice. "My feelings are ridiculous?"

"No, Quinn. Missing Beth is certainly not ridiculous. Wanting her with you is a perfectly natural thing for any good parent. Any parent… any parent who actually loves their kid, anyways, is hardwired to instinctively want to keep their children close to them so that they can protect them. It's especially common in small families like yours, so you're not being selfish in wanting her with you; you're just feeling your maternal instincts. Any teenage mother who puts their child up for adoption is neither pathetic nor useless. The social structure of our society doesn't easily allow a teenager to raise a child; you have an education to get and there aren't a lot of people that will hire a teenage mother. It can be done but only with a large amount of help and social support which you didn't have when you ad in the fact that you were also homeless at the time. The ridiculous part is the thing where you think you are somehow a coward in all of this. You carried that little girl inside you to term… or mostly to term. When hundreds of other girls in your situation just get an abortion, you kept your baby even though it cost you your spot on the Cheerios, your social standing, and eventually your boyfriend and most of the people you thought of as friends. You kept the baby through all of that, and then after enduring a natural child birth, you gave her up so that Shelby could give her a happy, safe, and healthy life that you couldn't guarantee her. That's not cowardice Quinn, that's the most amazingly selfless thing I've ever seen."

Artie could hear Quinn sniffling over the phone, not sure if he'd made her big bag of emotions better or worse, so he just sat quietly and listened and waited. After five minutes of near total silence between them, finally Quinn spoke very softly, "Artie?"

"Still here. Are you okay?"

"Not especially. I know it's insanely late, but… could I come over? My mom left on a business trip this afternoon and I really don't feel like being alone right now."

Without a moment's hesitation Artie said, "Yeah, of course, you can. Do you know where I live?"

"I think so. The house with the red door on Elm, right?" Quinn said. Artie could hear Quinn moving around the room to gather things up.

"Yeah, 1815 East Elm. Park on the street and I'll leave my bedroom window open. It'll be on the south side of the house, around the corner to the left as you're facing the house. Just be quiet, okay? Everyone's already asleep."

"Okay, I'll be right there. Five minutes, tops."

"I'll see you when you get here."

As soon as they hung up, Artie realized what he'd just done. He'd just invited Quinn to spend the night with him in his room… which was a disaster area. The floor was clean and clear out of necessity because of the wheelchair, but his computer desk had soda bottles and food wrappers strewn about, his book shelves were a mess, there were piles of DVDs and 360 games variously stacked and scattered on the entertainment unit, there was a pile of dirty laundry in the hamper, and the bed sheets hadn't been changed in over two weeks.

Artie knew that Quinn wasn't exaggerating about it taking five minutes or less to get here. It didn't take very long to get anywhere in Lima, especially not at 2:30 in the morning, and Quinn didn't live that far away besides. Artie had to prioritize, so he grabbed his trash can and started stuffing wrappers and cans in a quickly and quietly as he could. He then grabbed his laundry hamper, sat it on his lap, holding it there with his chin. He briskly rolled himself to the laundry room, dropped off his dirties, and picked up a clean set of dark blue bed sheets. When he got back to his room, Artie quickly went about the task of stripping the old sheets. It dawned on him that he should have stripped the dirty sheets before going to the laundry room, but too late for that now.

"Artie?" came a hushed question from the open window. "You still up?"

"Yeah, I'm here," he called out the still empty window. "Where are you?" Quinn's head appeared in the window as the blonde stood up. "Why were you crouching?"

"Um, I don't know. I've never crawled in anyone's bedroom window before. Just seen it in movies and for some reason they're always crouched. It really makes no sense now that I think about it," Quinn responded. She tossed her gym bag in ahead of her and then started pulling herself up the wall into the window.

"Can you make it in?" Artie asked extending a hand.

"I'd have been a pretty lousy cheerleader if I couldn't," she replied as she pulled her knees up to her chest before extending legs into the room. When she was fully in the room, Artie couldn't help but smirk at the image before him: Quinn Fabray in a pair of yoga pants and a "Free Weezy" t-shirt. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around Artie's neck hugging him loosely. "Thanks for this, Artie. After, y'know, everything last year, I just really hate being alone when I'm all emotional like this."

Artie reached up and pulled her down onto his lap making the hug much less awkward. He wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. "It's no problem, Quinn. It's what friends are for right? What do you want to do?" he asked cheerfully.

"It's pretty late. Do you mind if we just go to bed?"

"That's fine, but I'll need your help putting clean sheets on the bed." They quickly set about the task and had it completed it within minutes. Then Artie transferred himself from his chair to the bed and lay down. Quinn kicked off her shoes and crawled onto the bed and lay down next to him, curling up against his side, and resting her head on his chest. He wrapped his right arm around her shoulders.

"Is this alright, my head on you like this?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah, you're good," Artie answered.

"Artie, your heartbeat is really racing."

"What can I say? I snuck a beautiful blonde into my bedroom and now she's curled up on me it. I don't break the rules much, so when I do it's kind of exhilarating."

"Is that right?" Quinn said.

"Admittedly, there may be a certain amount of subconscious emotional transference from the previous times there has been a beautiful blonde in my bed, but I assure you that I am a gentleman and will keep my hands and all other parts where they are welcome."

Quinn laughed softly against his chest. "I know you are and I appreciate that… and you know, all of this. I feel much better just being here, with you… in maybe the most comfortable bed I've ever felt. This thing is amazingly soft."

"Yes, it is. It's like sleeping in a cloud. It's one of those memory foam beds like you see on TV. It lets me sleep through the whole night. Otherwise I have to wake up every couple hours to change position to prevent sores. This thing was a godsend." They lay quietly together for a couple minutes before Artie broke the silence, "Quinn, I'm sorry I dug up all those painful memories and emotions."

"You've got nothing to be sorry about," she replied. "The show triggered them, but it could just as easily been something else or even nothing at all. These little bouts of emotion come up from time to time. It happens, nothing to do but get through them."

"You should go see her soon, then," Artie said.

"I can't just go see her, Artie. I gave her up for adoption."

"Yeah, but it's not a closed adoption. You still have visitation rights." Quinn raised her head up to look Artie in the eye. There was much confusion in her eyes. "You didn't know this?" he asked.

"How do you know about it?"

"Puck goes to see her pretty often, once a month at least, usually every couple of weeks." Quinn arched an eyebrow at him. "What? We're friends."

"You and Puck?" Quinn asked somewhat incredulously.

"Yeah, I mean, I guess. I mean, we don't do this," Artie waved a finger back and forth between himself and Quinn, "but we hang out, we play video games, we listen to music, we jam on our guitars. Is that not the standard of behavior amongst guy friends?" Quinn shrugged. "Well, occasionally I call him and he says 'No can do, A-man. Goin to see my kid' or something to that effect," Artie paused as his eyes shifted up away from Quinn momentarily before returning to her gaze. "Please tell me he only has the one kid."

Quinn's expression broke and she started laughing, trying to remain quiet while doing so. Still laughing she said, "As far as anyone knows." Her mood now greatly improved, Quinn laid her head back down on Artie's chest. She added, "That was a pretty spot on impression of Puck."

"Thanks. So? Beth?" Artie asked.

"Sleepy," Quinn replied. "Think about it tomorrow."

"Fair enough."


	4. Pancake Day!

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: Once again, sorry for the delays in publishing, sadly I am not independently wealthy and as such cannot just sit around writing Quartie and Brittina goodness all day. God how I wish I could. Anyways, time to throw in a little bit of drama… just a bit though, not too much. This is a bit longer than the previous chapters. Hope everyone enjoys.**

**Chapter 4**

**Pancake Day!**

Their extremely restful slumber was disrupted at 9am by Artie's eight year old sister Alexis bursting into the room exclaiming, "Artie! It's Saturday! It's Pancake Day!" Both Artie and Quinn began to rouse from their sleep. When Alexis saw the blonde hair of the girl curled up next to her brother, she managed to somehow get even more excited and screamed, "BRITTANY! You're back! You made it just in time for PANCAKE DAY!" The girl quickly scrambled up the side of the bed and flung herself onto Quinn wrapping her into a hug. "It's so good to see you again. Artie said you… you're not Brittany," she said as she finally saw Quinn's face.

"Quinn," she introduced herself.

"Oh you're Quinn! I heard so much about you," the youngest Abrams released her death grip on the blonde and sat up still straddling Quinn's legs. "I'm Alexis, Artie's sister. Do you want to stay and have breakfast with us? Saturday is Pancake Day!" Quinn couldn't help but laugh at the little girl's enthusiasm, but she wasn't left with any time to respond as Alexis suddenly jumped up and off the bed, bolted for the open door, and yelled, "Mom! Can Quinn stay for pancakes?"

During all this, Artie had retrieved his glasses from the nightstand and transferred himself back into his chair. He was trying to smooth down a cowlick in his hair when Alexis bellowed at his mother about Quinn. He winced when he heard his mom call back, "Stay?" His brain went to work concocting a story to explain the presence in his bed of a girl that neither of his parents had ever met, but knew almost instantly that it was a losing battle.

His mother's appearance in the doorway and the expression on her face at the sight made Artie's blood run cold. "Quinn is it?" she asked.

"Umm," Quickly sitting up, Quinn was terribly uncertain the protocol here. She'd never snuck into anyone's bedroom before, so obviously she'd never been caught in the bedroom the morning after. Did she politely excuse herself? Did she try to explain her presence? Did she jump out the window? Finally she just settled for answering the question asked of her. "Yes, ma'am, Quinn Fabray, it's nice to meet you, although kind of embarrassing to meet you like _this_. I'm sorry for sneaking in last night."

"It's okay, dear. It's nice to finally meet you, too. It's good to have a face to go with the name. Speaking of names, mine is Amy, not 'ma'am' and 'Mrs. Abrams' is my mother-in-law. As my daughter has told you, it is Pancake Day, and we'd be glad to have you."

Quinn smiled and said, "Thank you, Amy. Pancakes sound amazing."

Amy smiled back, "You're welcome, and would you mind going and helping Alexis set the table. I need to have a discussion with Artie."

Quinn quickly shot Artie her best 'I'm sorry' look. He returned a 'no worries' look at her that seemed fairly sincere, so she stood up from the bed and reached for the younger girl who accepted Quinn's hand in hers. "Will you show me where everything is, Lex?" Alexis vigorously nodded her head as she led Quinn out of the bedroom.

When they past the doorway, Amy's gaze fell on Artie and his nonchalant façade broke into a million little pieces. The anger in her eyes was unlike anything Artie had ever seen. Something had her terribly upset, far more so than Artie had anticipated. "So," Amy began, "let's, just for the moment, jump past the part where you're sneaking a girl into the house and the part where you two did whatever you did while your sister was right across the hall, and move on the part where I am appalled at you for… Artie, I know you are hurting because Brittany broke your heart, but for you use to use that girl to try to replace her, and of all people you use _her_? After everything she went through last year?"

"MOM!" Artie interjected.

"Don't you dare try to justify it, Artie. I don't want to hear it."

"Well, I'm going to say it. I'm not using Quinn to replace Brittany. Not…"

Amy interrupted, "So she's not tall, blonde, and beautiful, like your ex? She's not a cheerleader? She's not ditzy and flighty and prone to rambling?"

"Tall, blonde, beautiful?" Artie responded ticking the descriptors off on his fingers, "Yes. _EX_-cheerleader. Prone to rambling… occasionally, but no worse than I am. Ditzy and flighty?" Artie shook his head. "Not in the slightest. She's every bit as smart as I am. All of which is irrelevant since I'm not using her to replace Brittany because nothing happened. I mean, okay, yes, something happened. I snuck a girl into my room and that's against the rules and I'm fully prepared to accept my punishment for that, but nothing happened between Quinn and I. We're just friends and she was having a really bad night that I was sort of indirectly responsible. Her mom's out of town for work and she didn't want to spend the night alone in her house, so I told her she could come over. I'd have asked, but it was 2:30 in the morning, I didn't want to wake anyone up. I broke the rules, I'm in trouble, that's fine, but I'm really hurt that you think that little of me."

Now it was Amy's turn to look chastened. "I'm sorry, Artie. I… I guess I saw a blonde girl in my son's bed and thought… I don't know. I know you and Brittany were sexually active and I guess knowing about what I know about Quinn, I assumed something about her that I maybe shouldn't have."

"She's not like that, Mom." Artie clarified, "She made one bad decision and my God did she pay the price for it. She lost her boyfriend, her friends, her home. I'm guessing it taught her a lesson."

Amy just nodded taking in this new information. "I'm sorry for assuming the worst, and I don't think that little of you, Artie. I just know that sometimes when we're hurt we tend to do things we wouldn't ordinarily do. I'm sorry. I should have known better. And if you are really just friends, then she's welcome here any time her mother is out of town."

"We _are _just friends," Artie reaffirmed before adding, "Not that I wouldn't want to be more than that. It's just that we both just got out of relationships and I think she needs a friend more than a boyfriend right now, and I like her too much for her to be basically what you were thinking she was. So we're friends."

Amy said, "Well, if and when your friendship grows beyond that, maybe she can bunk with Alexis when she needs a place to crash... for my sanity."

"Speaking of Alexis, if there aren't pancakes soon, she might go insane," Artie said.

Amy chuckled and said, "We should go."

Twenty minutes later Pancake Day was well underway, Amy and Alexis were making the batter. Quinn and Artie were retrieving fruit from the fridge and cutting it up into a fruit salad so they had something healthy to offset the pancakes and maple syrup. Alexis had a playlist of Disney music playing as they made breakfast and Quinn couldn't help but smile at the memories of when she was Alexis' age and loved Disney movies every bit as much as Alexis did now. When "Hakuna Matata" came on, all four of them hummed along instinctively and everyone but Alexis laughed at the shared reaction. Soon the pancakes were poured, glasses were filled, syrup was warmed, and everyone was gathered around the kitchen table digging into their food. Quinn had never experienced anything like this. In the Fabray house, breakfast was quiet, usually silent, and usually little more than half a grapefruit or a bagel while her mother and father drank their breakfasts. Since the divorce, it had been whatever Quinn could eat on her way out the door to school, Cheerios practice, yoga, or whatever excuse she could find to get out of the house. This was the complete opposite of that, Quinn wanted to stay here in this moment forever, lingering in the smells and the sounds of a family breakfast in a loving home.

"Amy," Quinn said in between bites, "this is so amazing. Thank you for having me."

"You're very welcome, Quinn," she responded. "Thank you for getting my daughter to eat some fruit with all this less than healthy stuff."

"I don't know that I did anything…"

"You did something," Artie jumped in. "Usually the only fruit that she eats is of 'Roll-Up' variety." Artie, Quinn, and Amy all laughed at this. Alexis was too busy stuffing more pancakes into her mouth.

"Well, whatever I did, I'm glad I could help," Quinn said. She looked all around her in wide-eyed wonder. "I'm sorry. I just can't get over how much I love your house."

Amy smiled brightly. Quinn couldn't help but notice that it more-or-less the same smile she often saw on Artie's face. "Thank you, Quinn," Amy replied. "It's not much, but it's home."

"Oh, no," Quinn disputed, "it's definitely much. It may not be as voluminous as some, but it's definitely amazing. I live in a gigantic mansion but it feels like tomb. This place has love painted on the walls. I think your house has to go on my Happy List, Artie."

"Awesome," Artie said around a mouthful.

"Happy list?" Amy inquired.

"Um, long story short?" Quinn began. "I've spent all of my life, up until the last few weeks living up to or trying to live up to a set of expectations that I've never actually figured out what actually makes _me_ happy, so I started a list. Why I feel the need to make an actual list of things I have no idea, but your house and especially Pancake Day are officially number eight."

"I am number four," Artie beamed proudly.

Ignoring this, Amy said, "Well you're welcome to come to Pancake Day any time you like, especially if your presence will inspire my daughter eat better and especially for the next few weeks while Art and Adam are out of town."

"I was curious about them," Quinn said, "I knew you guys were, y'know, not divorced or anything and I thought I remembered that Artie said something about have a brother. I can't believe they're missing Pancake Day." She smiled at Alexis who smiled back with a mouth full of fruit. "Where are they?"

"Cleveland," Amy said.

"Baseball camp," Artie said talking over his mother. "Sorry, mom."

"It's okay," Amy said gesturing for him to continue.

"Dad and Adam are huge baseball fans," Artie elaborated, "Huge, huge, huge baseball fans. They love the Indians and so the first three weeks of June, they go to stay at our Uncle Mitch's house and go to fantasy baseball camp and to a bunch of Indians games."

"That sounds really cool, y'know, for a baseball fan, which I take you aren't?"

Artie shook his head and said, "I prefer a man's sport."

"Which would be?" Quinn inquired.

"Football, Woman." Amy rolled her eyes at this comment and Quinn caught it.

"Not a football fan, Amy?" she asked.

"Not a fan of him calling people 'woman'" she replied, "but to answer your question, not really. I use to be a fan of the McKinley High Titans until they kicked my son off the team."

"What?" Quinn asked.

"Mom, they didn't kick me off the team, I'm just ineligible to play because of the chair."

"I thought there wasn't a rule against a kid in a wheelchair playing football," Quinn asked.

"There wasn't; now there is. Apparently, several of the other local teams complained to the State Athletic Board about me," Artie said.

"That sucks," Quinn said very upset for her friend.

"Yeah, but they kind of have a valid point. The chair's made out of titanium. The other teams can't tackle me without running a sizable risk of breaking their necks or other important anatomical parts, and I certainly don't want anyone else hurt because of my silly desire to play high school football. Besides since I couldn't play defense last year, apparently, according to Coach, I learned to read the opposing team's offense, so Coach says I can stay on as Defensive Coordinator, which she says will be a lot more impressive on a college resume than just playing."

"I'll say! That's awesome Artie. Congratulations!" Quinn said.

"Thanks," he said, and then a thought occurred to him, "Oh, word to the wise, if you do start making regular appearances at Pancake Day, or just at the house in general, Dad is also a basketball fan and a Cavilers fan."

"Okay?" Quinn wasn't quite sure the significance of that.

"So don't, under any circumstances, mention the name Lebron James."

"Oh my God!" Amy agreed, "Listen to him Quinn. There will be no end to the tirade Art goes on. In fact, Artie's tempting fate mentioning He-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named while he's not here. It's like Art can sense that the name has been said."

After they finished breakfast, Alexis went to go watch Saturday Morning TV, Artie went to go take a shower, and Amy and Quinn cleaned up the kitchen. "So Quinn, how long have you and Artie been friends?"

"Heh," Quinn huffed. Amy raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Quinn continued, "You'd think that question would have a relatively straightforward answer. Um, Artie has been a friend to me more-or-less since I joined Glee Club two years ago. I have really only been a friend to him for about a week."

"Why's that?"

"It kind of goes back to what I said earlier about being expected to live up to certain expectations. I mean, you know my name, right? Fabray? You know who my father is." It wasn't a question, Quinn already knew the answer. Amy nodded anyway. "He went to a lot of trouble to make sure everyone knew who he is. Russell Fabray, Top Dog. Better than everyone else in every way," Quinn said very obvious contempt in her voice. "That's why he built that mansion up on the top of that hill, so that he could _literally _look down his nose at everyone in the whole town. And I was expected to be him in microcosm at school. I went to a great deal of trouble to accomplish that: went on a crazy diet to lose almost a hundred pounds, dyed my hair, got contacts, got a nose job, changed my name…"

"Changed your name?" Amy echoed in surprise.

"Well, more accurately, I started going by my middle name. My first name is Lucy. Did all that so that I could get on the Cheerios and get to the top of the social pyramid, which I did, and pardon my language in advance but I also became a gigantic bitch to virtually everyone. I don't think Artie ever felt the wrath of my bitchiness but I could have stopped people from messing with him, bullying him and I didn't, which I apologize to you as well as to him for. All I can say is that I'm not that person anymore and that Artie is playing a very large role in helping me not be that person anymore."

"Apology accepted," Amy said without hesitation, "and I'll tell you why. For the last couple of months, Artie has been variously stressed beyond belief and extremely mopey. I finally dragged out of him a couple of weeks ago that he and Brittany were having troubles."

"Brittany left him for someone else on the last day of school," Quinn said, skirting the details.

"I assumed as much," Amy answered her. "You say that your efforts to be a better friend to him started a week ago? Well, last Saturday when he came home, he was my happy-go-lucky son again, and I haven't seen him smile so much in months, so logically I can only assume that being friends with you has pulled him out of his funk for which I owe you big time. So I'd like to extend you an invitation."

"An invitation?"

"Yes, I don't necessarily like the idea of you staying in that house by yourself, so if you'd like, whenever your mother is out of town you can come and stay with us."

"Seriously?" Quinn asked almost incredulous.

"Seriously, I like you Quinn," Amy said. "You're smart, you're funny, you're well mannered, you're good for Artie, you're good for Alexis, you're… you know, you help do the dishes, which I can't even get Art to do." Both of them smiled at the last comment.

"Well, like I said before, I love your house, and I'm not a big fan of being alone, especially lately so if it's not too much of an imposition, I'd love to," Quinn replied with a smile.

"Great," Amy responded. "It's not an imposition at all. Now as long as you and Artie remain just friends, I don't mind you staying in his room with him, but if it ever grows beyond that, I'd prefer you bunked with Alexis."

"Understood," Quinn smiled, willfully ignoring the implications of that stipulation. "However, if I'm guessing right, I'll probably wind up bunking with Alexis some of the time anyway."

"You're probably right," Amy said with a smile.


	5. Friends

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: Delays, delays, delays. I'm sorry. Back-to-School season is brutal on my free time, like I have basically none of it, so finding the time to brainstorm ideas, much less the time to sit down and write them out is difficult and considering I'm currently updating two stories, it means many delays. Again, sorry. Thanks for all the effusive reviews.**

**Chapter 5**

**Friends**

Late Wednesday morning Artie was intensely involved in some on-line multiplayer Black Ops with Puck. Their heated rivalry with Finn and Mike was reaching epic proportions. The level of smack talk was verging on the ridiculous. Artie was so involved in the game that he almost didn't hear his phone chirp. He glanced at it briefly not wanting to lose focus on what he was doing with his RC-XD on screen. "Will you focus?" Puck shouted at him over his headset. Artie ignored the comment and bumped the screen on his phone. It was a text message from Quinn. He sighed to himself knowing he was going to somehow attempt to answer this. He leaned over extending his left pinky finger to slide the phone unlocked and tapped out a very short reply. "COD. Call." Thirty seconds later his phone was ringing and Puck immediately shouted, "Dude, don't you dare answer that!" As he was shouting, Artie simultaneously answered the phone and detonated Mike on screen. Artie quickly hit the speakerphone button as he said, "Suck it Chang! Now Puck go find Finn. He's ghosting around here somewhere."

"Um, Artie?" Quinn said over the phone.

"Sorry, Quinn, I'm here just directing a little bit of traffic. What's up?"

"Quinn?" Puck said over the headset. "What are you talkin to my baby mama for?"

"Puck, will you focus?" Artie replied.

"I was just going to see what you were up to, but clearly you're busy…"

"Not too busy to talk," he cut her off. "There may be random outbursts that make no sense to you, but I can talk." Artie had learned his lesson with Tina. Ignoring a girl for video games was unacceptable he knew.

"So is this a marathon game?" Quinn asked.

"Huh? Oh, no. I have physio in a little over an hour and Puck has pools he's supposed to be cleaning even now."

"Will you get off the damn phone and help me kill these losers?"

"I will as soon as you find Fi… never mind," Artie said, "found Finn. He's somewhere in the vicinity of my corpse." A message popped up on screen that said, 'I was stalking you for like five mins'

"I'm sorry I got you killed," Quinn apologized.

"You didn't," Artie quickly corrected her. "Finn's just a freaking sneaky ass ninja in this game which is pretty ironic when you think about it." Quinn laughed. That was something that she had done more in the last two weeks than in the last two years, and it was a sound that Artie was quickly becoming very fond of. "So what's up with _you_ today?" Artie asked.

"Me or Puck?" Quinn asked.

"Lucille Quinn Fabray," he clarified, "what does your Wednesday schedule look like?"

"The morning and early afternoon is wide open. I have my yoga class at three. I'd invite you to that, but that would feel kind of cruel…"

"DAMNIT, MIKE!" Artie accidentally cut her off. "Sorry, Quinn, I'm totally listening, I swear. I don't see how inviting me to yoga would be cruel. I mean, even if I can't _do _yoga doesn't mean I can't enjoy the sight of girls in yoga pants."

"Stop flirting with Quinn and shoot something!"

Quinn scoffed and said, "God, you're such a boy!"

"I'm all _man_, Woman!" Artie said.

"You're a half a man who can't lay down cover fire worth a damn! We're gonna lose and it's gonna be all your fucking fault Abrams! I want you to…" Artie pulled his earpiece off. Puck would always get hugely frustrated when they were losing and became impossible to listen to. He quickly pulled off a headshot on Mike and went back to searching for Finn.

"Well, I was calling because the Forbes Theater has a Hitchcock double feature playing tonight that I was thinking about checking out. You want to go with me?"

"Absolutely," Artie said enthusiastically, "which two movies?"

"Notorious and Dial M for Murder, starts at 6. You need a ride?"

"That would be helpful, thanks."

"Okay, I'll be by at 5. Now get back to murdering your friends in the streets before Puckerman has a stroke."

"It'll be okay, I'll get into a groove here in a second and go on a kill rampage. See you at five."

"Bye."

Artie hung up the phone and replaced his earpiece. "Sorry, Puck, I dropped my headset."

"Bullshit," Puck said.

"Now eyes up, yo. I'm bout to put the smack down on these fools."

Forty minutes before her yoga class Quinn was in line at The Lima Bean getting her daily fix of caffeine when she heard two very familiar laughs and one unfamiliar one that she could venture a guess as to the identity. Looking around she quickly located them and sure enough there sat Mercedes, Kurt, and Blaine. She was instantly conflicted as to what to do. On the one hand she wanted to make amends to Mercedes and Kurt for pushing them away or at the very least apologize whether they let her truly make amends or not, on the other hand, she didn't want to intrude on their fun. By the time she had ordered Quinn had decided to let the matter go for now, she would call them up another time and work out a time to do all this properly. Then the barista called her name and Quinn reached to claim her beverage. From behind her, Quinn heard Mercedes say, "Hey Quinn, sup girl?"

"Hey, Mercedes," Quinn said smiling happily at her friend, "What are you up to?"

"Oh, just hangin out, y'know, enjoying summer. You headed to work out I guess?"

"Yeah, in a little bit," Quinn replied, "Yoga with The Unholy Trinity, down the block."

"You know we don't still call you guys that, right?" Mercedes said, suddenly very serious.

"You guys might not, but Santana still does," Quinn informed her.

Mercedes rolled her eyes and said, "Of _course_ she does. That girl," Mercedes shook her head in disbelief. "You got time to come say hey? I'm here with Kurt and Blaine."

"I don't want to intrude," Quinn said.

"Girl, please. Come on," Mercedes said taking her roughly by the arm lightly dragging the blonde in the direction of their table. As soon as they got there, Mercedes said to the boys, "Look who I found."

"Hey, Quinn," Kurt said. Quinn was suddenly concerned that she might get hypothermia considering how very cold his reaction was. Not that she deserved anything better she knew but after Mercedes' rather warm reaction she might have dared to hope that mending her relationship with the two would be easier than she'd hoped. It was exceedingly unusual for these two to be so far out of synch.

Blaine gave a very even, noncommittal, "Hi."

"Hi, guys," Quinn did her best to be cheerful without being fake. She then turned to Mercedes and whispered, "I should go. Kurt's clearly not thrilled with me being here."

"Girl, seriously, sit down," Mercedes said forcefully. Quinn did as she was told and Mercedes slid into the booth beside her. The four shared a couple of really tense, awkward minutes of silence.

Finally, Blaine broke and said, "So Quinn, you're headed to yoga, I guess?"

"Yeah," Quinn said, "it helps me stay in shape now that I'm done with Cheerios. Plus, y'know, it's nice to have some kind of exercise I actually like doing."

Kurt piped in at this point, "After her less-than-stellar showing this past year, I thought Miss Sylvester would jump at the chance to have her stars back on the squad."

"That's about as good a segue way into what I'm wanting to say as I'm likely to get," Quinn said quickly adding, "She may very well want us back, in fact, as I think about it, I'm pretty certain that she will, but that won't change the fact that I'm done with it. I'm not going back, and I shouldn't have this year. I shouldn't have tried to ignore everything that happened last year and I shouldn't have pushed you away… either of you," Quinn clarified, glancing from Kurt to Mercedes and back again. "It was incredibly stupid of me. You guys were amazing to me when I needed you most and Sylvester and the Cheerios dumped me at the first sign of trouble. I should never have picked them over you, I'm sorry. There were reasons, not good ones, but I have no excuses. All I can say is that I'm trying very hard not to be that person anymore."

Mercedes looked stunned; she'd never heard Quinn talk quite so much at so little prompting. She was usually so guarded, even when she'd lived with her and her family. Mercedes also hadn't borne Quinn much in the way of ill will. Sure they hadn't hung out much in the last year, but Quinn had things going on with moving back home and figuring out the new relationship between her and her mother without her father and getting back into shape after giving birth, then dating Sam and then Finn. Sure, she'd missed her friend but she'd never actually felt pushed away, so for Mercedes there was never a hesitation for her to put her arm around Quinn's shoulders and confirm for her that they were, in fact, still friends. "We good, honey."

Kurt was in many ways the opposite of his best friend. He most certainly had felt pushed away by his friend the ex-cheerleader, and just when he'd really needed his friends the most. Kurt hadn't batted an eye at being there for the pregnant teenager, but when times got tough for him she was busy being doe eyed over Sam and then Finn. When he'd been chased out of the school by Karofsky, she wasn't there. She, as head cheerleader and queen bee of the school, with only a little effort could have stopped his torment. Rachel had been there for him. Rachel, whom Quinn had made a virtual sport of tormenting and harassing, had been a rock, had come to hang out with him constantly so that he didn't feel isolated from all his friends. And it was Santana who had stopped the bullies, and while she did it for her own Machiavellian reasons, she had _done_ it, and because of that and the bonding that they'd gone through while Kurt helped Santana through her coming out, he felt a certain kinship towards her as well. Thus, he was considerably more reluctant to forgive Quinn than Mercedes clearly was. Ironic, then, that it was Rachel's voice that was echoing in Kurt's head saying, "Everyone deserves a second chance."

"Let's say, hypothetically, that I accept your apology…"

"Kurt," Blaine interjected, but Kurt motioned to be allowed to continue.

"You know that the seat you're sitting is generally occupied by someone else, right? You know that if this," Kurt motioned to the four of them, "is ever going to happen, there's someone else you owe an apology to as well?"

Rachel Berry. She knew alright, she just had no idea how to go about it, mostly because she really had no idea where she and Rachel stood anymore. Aside from informing her of the bogus nature of her Cats tickets in New York, the last real interaction the girls had had was Quinn slapping the hell out of Rachel on Prom Night, which for anyone else would tell you exactly where you stood, but Rachel had to go an "appreciate the drama of it" then go one step further and actually reassure Quinn about her fears of the future. That had been the first time that anyone had ever said that Quinn might have a future as anything other than the-future-Mrs. Whoever. Now that she thought about it that might have actually set her off on this journey of self-discovery. She had started thinking that maybe she had a chance at a life after high school then. Finn dumping her had set her back emotionally and it took a therapeutic haircut to finally get her let go of all her bullshit, but Rachel had actually started her on this path. "I know," Quinn said, "I just… I have no idea how to do that. I'm still pretty new to this apologizing thing. I started with Artie whom I hadn't actually done anything to except be a crappy friend, then I moved up to you guys who I have actually done wrong. I was kind of hoping there's a step between friends I've mistreated and the person I've tortured for years. I've already made peace with Sam and Finn for cheating on them. I guess she's really all that's left, but I'm honestly lost on what to say. Somehow I don't think 'Hey Rachel, you know how I've made high school Hell for you? I'm not going to do that anymore, k?' will quite do it."

"Is you talkativeness inversely proportional to the length of your hair or something?" Kurt asked suddenly. Blaine and Mercedes were deadly silent, not sure how she'd take the comment. Quinn cracked up, snorting before laughing out loud. Seeing her reaction, a reaction none of them had ever seen before out of her before, they likewise broke out laughing.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry. That sounded just like something Artie would say," Quinn said explaining herself. At her second reference to the boy in just a few short minutes, the other three all exchanged looks and hitched eyebrows, none of which was lost on Quinn. "No," she pointed at Kurt, "no," she pointed at Blaine, "no," she pointed at Mercedes, "I know what you gossip mongers are thinking, and no, Artie and I are just friends."

"Is that right? So then what are the two of you doing the next time you hang out?" Kurt inquired.

"We're going to the movies tonight," she replied trying to sound nonchalant.

"To see?" Kurt prompted.

"Hitchcock double feature," Quinn informed him impassively.

"Oh really?" he said, "Not one, but two thriller movies so you can get scared and cuddle up into his arms. Blaine, remind me what we did on our last date."

"We watched 'The Crazies'" he said with a smirk, "and I believe you spent the whole movie cuddled up into my arms."

Quinn glared at Blaine but the boy seemed unfazed by it.

"And what did you guys do the last time you hung out?" Kurt continued his line of inquiry.

Quinn face palmed at the question. She knew her argument was sunk now, even if her argument happened to be the truth it wouldn't matter. She also knew she wasn't going to get out of answering the question. "I… may have spent the night at his house," Kurt smirked and Mercedes grinned, "…in his bed," three sets of eyes went wide, "and possibly had breakfast with his family the next morning."

Now all three were just barely containing laughter, finally Blaine was the first to break, "So when's the wedding?" Then all three of them lost it and laughed heartily.


	6. Movie Night

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**Chapter Six**

**Movie Night**

On her way over to Artie's that evening she got a text from him that said: Just getting into shower, no one else home, let yourself in. A few minutes later, she pulled up into the driveway, hopped out of the car, and went to open the door but it was locked. For a minute she was confused about how she was supposed to let herself in, but she quickly remember how she let herself in last time. She made her way around the corner of the house and sure enough Artie's bedroom window was unlocked and open. Quinn braced her hands on the window seal and endeavored to repeat her actions from a few days ago. However, she quickly ran into an issue. The last time she'd attempted this, she was wearing yoga pants and now she was wearing an infinitely more restrictive pair of skinny jeans. The tuck-and-extend move that she'd done Saturday wasn't going to work here. She decided this time she'd have to go for more of a roll, but when she went to execute it her body didn't seem to get the message so she wound up just flopping onto the floor rather painfully.

"QUINN?" Artie shouted over the sound of the shower.

"I'M OKAY!" she shouted back not _entirely _certain that it was actually true.

"OKAY! I'LL BE OUT IN A SECOND! MAKE YOURSELF AT HOME!"

Quinn pulled herself up into Artie's desk chair and began browsing Artie's _very _extensive iTunes collection. She wanted to find someone or something she'd never heard of before. She quickly landed on a band called The Heavy. She clicked on a song called "Sixteen" and was instantly floored by the sounds that came out. It was hypnotic and amazing. Quinn began swaying in the chair in time with the music. The next song was equally amazing, and Quinn was so enthralled by the music that she missed the sound of the shower shutting off and of Artie getting himself out and into his chair. When he rolled back into the bedroom he said, "Good choice."

Quinn nearly jumped out of the chair at the sound of his voice. "Holy crap!" she shouted. "Wow, I was really zoned out there," she said followed by a deep breath to try to calm her suddenly racing heart. "I was just looking for something I hadn't…" Quinn trailed off as she spun the chair around to face Artie… wearing only a towel.

"Quinn, you're wearing glasses," Artie said.

"And you're not wearing anything," Quinn said back.

Artie had a huge grin on his face and was silent for a long moment. Finally he said, "Actually I've got boxers on. I'm just covering… um, I had clothes laid out to wear but I accidentally got them all wet." Quinn was staring, and she knew that she was staring and that she should stop because A) it was rude and B) this was her friend, not some piece of meat, but she was having trouble with it because, dammit, Artie was built. He didn't necessarily have the physique of Sam or Mike and their six pack abs that they showed off at every opportunity, but definitely much better than that of Finn or even Puck. Artie was highly amused at the reaction Quinn was having but finally broke away from her gaze. He got into his dresser and pulled out a pair of pants and threw them on the bed and then did the same with a pair of socks. "Quinn, could you grab me a shirt out of the closet there. I don't care which one. We're gonna be sitting in a dark movie theater for the next three hours, so who cares what I'm wearing, right?" Quinn slid the closet door open and as expected was met with a sea of white dress shirts and sweater vests and chuckled slightly. He called out, "School clothes. Other side." She opened the other side and found a much more diverse selection of clothes.

Quinn looked back to him and said, "Artie, why don't you ever wear any of this to school?"

"Because I don't want them to get ruined by Slushie."

Understanding washed over her face, "So the khaki and the white shirts…"

"…are cheap. You can find them at consignment shops and Goodwill for like a buck or two, so when they get splattered with red dye number 12, you just throw them out. Having five people in the house means a lot of laundry and you don't want to have to spend all day Spot Shot-ing stuff."

"The sweater vests?" Quinn asked.

"Are functional. I don't have great circulation, so they keep me warm, and the lack of sleeves means they won't get hung up in the spokes of my wheels. Unfortunately they don't seem to make not ugly sweater vests, so I work with what I've got."

"I'm sorry," Quinn said, "I don't mean to be so nosey. I guess I just always thought that was your preferred style, and the diversity of wardrobe threw my preconceptions for a loop."

"It's okay. It was kind of my style until about 6th grade."

"What happened in sixth?"

"I met Kurt."

"Oh," Quinn laughed, "yeah that'll do it."

"Yeah," Artie said shortly before adding, "Can I have a shirt now please? It's getting a little cold over here."

"Oops," Quinn said, smiling and blushing. She quickly grabbed something she liked and threw a bright red button-up silk shirt on the bed next to his pants. "You many not care what you wear, but I want to meet Stylish Artie."

Quinn stepped out into the hallway and started examining the myriad of pictures on the walls of the Abrams house. Pictures of young Artie she particularly liked. It was quite amazing to Quinn just how little Artie had changed: same big beaming smile, same floppy brown hair, same piercing blue eyes. There had to be close to a hundred pictures framed and mounted on the walls which Quinn found astounding since there were absolutely no pictures on the walls of her sterile home. It's what she'd meant when she said that the walls of this house were painted with love. The whole place felt so inviting and warm, sort of like the family that resided in it. The pictures were almost all of some combination of Artie, Alexis and what she assumed were Art and Adam. Logic dictated that Amy must be the shutterbug of the family. Quinn had made her way into the family room following the trail of pictures when she struck on one that, as far as she could tell, was the earliest picture of Artie in his chair. He looked to be about eight or nine, which matched up to the timeline as Quinn understood it. Here was this picture of this little kid who had just undergone a life altering car accident followed by God knows how many operations and physical therapy and was undoubtedly right in the middle of learning, or rather re-learning, how to do even the most basic things, dressing himself, getting in and out of bed, going to the bathroom, all the things that everyone takes for granted, and yet there was not the slightest bit of anger, resentment, or even frustration visible on his face. He just looked peaceful.

"That's one of my favorite pictures," said Amy from behind her.

For the second time in less than twenty minutes Quinn nearly jumped out of her skin, "Good God will you guys stop doing that?"

Amy just smiled, "Quinn, honey, I called your name when I saw you standing here. You even responded, not, y'know, intelligibly, but you did make some acknowledgement that you'd heard me. You must have really been in deep thought."

Quinn chuckled at herself, "I guess so."

"So what are you two up to tonight?" the older woman asked.

"We're going out," she said, but quickly corrected herself, "to a movie. We're going to a movie." 'Damn you, Kurt.' Quinn thought.

"And we're going to be late," Artie declared as she rolled into the room, "if we don't get going. Bye, Mom."

"Bye, hun. Bye, Quinn."

"Bye, Amy."

When they got to the car, Artie transferred himself in and Quinn quickly stowed his chair in the back seat then made her was around to the driver's side. When she sat down she glanced over at Artie briefly then down at the steering column making to put the key in the ignition before the realization of what she'd seen in that glance. She looked back at Artie. He had the red shirt she'd thrown him on with the top three buttons undone, a white t-shirt underneath, the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and his hair was styled with like actual product rather than just swept to one side. "Artie, you…" Quinn trailed off looking him over. Apparently Stylish Artie was also Sexy Artie. When her gaze landed back up on his face he had an eyebrow hitched in a very familiar manor, "…you have a forehead," she finished feeling lame as the words escaped her lips. She scoffed at herself, "You look hot, Artie. I feel under dressed."

"Oh, whatever, Quinn. You know, know you'd look amazing even if you were wearing a burlap sack… especially if you were wearing those glasses with your sack." Quinn snorted and laughed at him yet again. He then said, "Let's go, Woman! Artie needs popcorn!"

When they got to the theater all of the handicap parking spaces were full so Quinn was forced drop Artie at the entrance and then go park the car. When she made it back to the building, Artie was already inside. She went in and scanned the lobby for him.

"Quinn," he said raising a hand, "over here. Come on."

"Okay. Let me just grab tickets," she responded.

"I got the tickets," he said, holding them up, "now come on. The movies gonna start and we still have to hit the concession stand. Artie needs popcorn."

"Artie should have let me pay," she responded as they got in line for concession.

"I believe that I am the man here, so it is upon me to pay for such things."

"Your maleness is without doubt, Artie," she replied with a smile, "but _I_ asked _you_ out…. I mean, invited you out," Quinn could hear the gossipy trio in the coffee shop's laughter in her head, "so doesn't it fall on me to pay for such things in that scenario? Especially since I'd be paying with my horrible excuse for a father's money?"

"Well, he's not a man," Artie said with no small amount of anger in his voice, "so he can't buy our movie tickets. Your sperm donor _can_ buy me popcorn, however," he added, the smile returning to his face.

"Your chivalric code is rather random," Quinn said.

"I'm a complicated man, sweetheart," Artie replied with a slightly affected tone of voice. Quinn stiffened visibly as she got the reference. "I'm sorry, Quinn, I just…"

"No, I got it," she cut him off as politely as she could. "You're just pushing a lot of my buttons today, Artie, you look nice, you're being chivalrous, and now you're invoking Josh Holloway which brings up mental images of him shirtless which reminds me that I saw your not unimpressive shirtless physique a few minutes ago, and… I don't know." When Quinn stopped staring off into space and looked back to Artie he was grinning ear to ear. "What?"

"You watch Lost."

"So?"

"Quinn Fabray's a sci-fi nerd," Artie beamed as they reached the head of the concession line.

Quinn tried and largely failed to hide her smile with a scowl, "Just order your popcorn before I have to hurt you." In the end, Quinn's sperm donor bought a large popcorn with salt and extra butter, a box of Goobers, a big bag of Starbursts, and two bottles of water. They took their mountain of sweets and made their way into the theater. The build was built in the early 70's so the theater was one of the old style non-theater style seating. It also meant that wheelchair accessible seating was at the back on a platform which made Artie feel like he was on display pedestal. Instead he opted to sit in the theater proper. The theater was pretty sparsely populated so it wasn't hard for them to find an unoccupied aisle so that Artie's folded up chair wasn't blocking anyone's egress.

Thankfully, since it was a revival, there weren't any commercials or previews. They just got straight into the movies. Artie watched with rapt attention, often with his mouth agape. Quinn couldn't help but find it adorable. She also couldn't help herself from reaching for Artie's arm and often his hand when the tension really started to rack up, and once again she found herself thinking, 'Damn you, Kurt.'


	7. A Non Date Gone Sideways

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: Sorry it's taken me a couple of days to get back to update this one. I got stuck a little bit plus my other story is building to an emotional crescendo so I've been heavily focused over there. Anyways, here's the second half of movie night. Hope everyone enjoys and thanks to all who take the time to review.**

**Chapter 7**

**A Non-Date Gone Sideways**

"So can I ask about the glasses?" Artie asked. After the movies, both Quinn and Artie had found themselves famished so they'd gone to nearby diner called Eddie's. They'd been seated right away and put their order in and were now waiting on their food. Quinn was busy trying to tell herself that even though she'd spent the better part of last three hours holding Artie's hand and even though he'd bought the tickets and even though she kept saying things that would imply otherwise, this was still not a date. It was just two friends hanging out like friends do.

"I don't know that there's much to say. I'm horribly nearsighted, always have been. I got contacts as part of the transformation when I went all Professor Higgins on myself," Quinn laughed to herself. "This is kind of dumb of me, but my eyes were irritated this afternoon so I debate with myself, 'Do I leave them in and deal with the irritation?' 'Do I take them out and call to re-schedule the movie?' for like twenty minutes back and forth and then it dawned on me. This is Artie I'm going out with… I mean, um…"

"You know you don't have to constantly correct yourself like that. I know what you mean."

Quinn smiled and said, "Thanks. So anyway, I'm like 'It's Artie. He's not going to judge me for anything, and even if he did, he's certainly not going to judge me for wearing glasses.' Then I just felt silly."

"You _should _feel silly, Woman," Artie responded quickly. "You're glasses make you look even hotter than usual. I don't know how no one has ever told you that before."

"How do you figure that?" Quinn asked skeptically.

"Because they make you look smart. I mean, obviously you are smart, but the glasses are, you know, an external representation of an internal quality so that someone who didn't know you could look at you and see that you're smart."

"And looking smart has what to do with being hot?"

"Pshhh, Quinn, you clearly don't watch enough _Big Bang Theory_. Smart is the new Sexy. Exhibit A, this guy," Artie said pointing to himself. Quinn had learned pretty early on that Artie's bravado was a cover for some sort of insecurity that she hadn't quite figured out yet. He wasn't being genuinely egotistical; he was just making a joke.

As she usually did, Quinn laughed at his bravado, but this time, for some reason she also said, "Can't argue with that." The words tumbled out of her mouth without her thinking about them and far too loudly to have been missed. Quinn flushed and clapped her right hand over her mouth.

"Quinn, what's up with you today? You're acting weird and nervous all of a sudden, what gives?"

"I keep saying flirty things to you or about you," she said lifting her hand from her mouth, sliding it up to her cheek. Their waiter returned with drinks and the conversation stalled while they waited for the man to depart.

When he had, Artie looked her in the eyes. "So what? We always say and do flirty things. It's like part of our routine by now. I know you didn't just notice you were doing it and somehow miss that I do it too," Artie replied.

"Okay, but you don't keep saying that we're going out or that I asked you out and all manner of colloquialisms that imply that we are dating."

"True enough but I hadn't actually assumed that we were based on you tripping over your vocabulary. I'm not twelve. I don't think that just because a pretty girl smiles at me that she's in love with me," Artie explained. "Quinn, what happened to you today? In two weeks I've never seen you so worked up over basically nothing."

Quinn pressed her forehead against the upturned palm of her hand and closed her eyes and gently shook her head. "I, uh, before yoga class I went to get coffee and I ran into Mercedes and she was there with Kurt and Blaine and I took the chance to apologize to Kurt and Mercedes for pushing them away this year."

"And Kurtcedes, the gossip monsters, said something, didn't they?" Artie intuited.

"We talked for a while and I may have mentioned your name a couple of times and the fact that we're hanging out. They all got that giggly, knowing look on their faces and I maybe possibly protested too much that we were just friends and then Kurt laid out a pretty compelling argument for how we're more than just friends, and then all the sexual tension tonight and the hand holding in the movie and just… it's all a little too familiar. At the beginning of this year, the school year, I had plans to work on me and get my life in order then Sam came along telling I had nice eyes and two weeks later we were dating and then the whole thing with Finn and before I knew it the whole year was gone and I hadn't done any work on me, and I just don't to fall back into that pattern."

"Okay, so don't," Artie said simply.

"Just like that?" Quinn said, chuckling at how simple he made it sound.

"Yeah," he replied, "It's not Kurt or Mercedes or Blaine or anyone else's place to define our relationship. No one but the two of us get to decide whether or not we are dating."

"But the sexual tension…"

"That's not a relationship, that's attraction, and yeah that's sort of involuntary, and okay, cards on the table, I'm attracted to you Quinn. You're smart and funny, beautiful and talented. I'd be an idiot to _not _be attracted to you… or gay, I guess."

Quinn blushed and smiled. "I'm… I'm attracted to you, too," she said, "For all those reasons as well as your big heartedness and your openness and your kindness."

Now it was Artie's turn to smile. "Thanks. But I'm also just a couple of weeks removed from getting my heart stomped all over, as are you. Is another relationship what either of us needs right now?"

She gave a non-committal shrug. "So what then?"

"So then we do what we've been doing, hanging out, having fun. You work on you and fill up your Happy List. I'll work on me and get over being dumped, and we'll see where things go but you don't have to freak out just because you want this," he said, again indicating himself. "Don't worry. Everybody does." His trademark cocky smile stretched proudly across his face caused Quinn to bust out laughing, and finally the tension was broken. "So how long have you been a fan of Hitchcock?" Artie asked trying to change the subject.

Quinn looked at her watch and back up at Artie, "About three and a half hours now."

"Seriously? This was your first Hitchcock experience? You haven't ever even seen Psycho or The Rear Window on like AMC or something?"

Quinn shook her head. "Good Christian girls don't watch movies about murder and mayhem, Artie," she said with no small amount of contempt at the rigid and seemingly arbitrary rule structure of her old life. Rolling her eyes she added, "My old life was so stupid."

"But you like the movies tonight?" Artie asked.

"I did. They were great."

"Then you should come over this weekend and we can watch some more. I've got a mountainous DVD collection and a whole summer to burn through them."

Quinn smiled and said, "That sounds awesome. Mom's going on another one of her trips this weekend, so I was thinking I'd come over Friday night, stay the night. Don't want to miss Pancake Day after all."

"Heavens, no."

About this time their server returned to the table with their food. They both took a break from the conversation to make sure that their food was to their liking. Quinn had ordered a Chicken Caesar Salad no croutons. Artie had the club sandwich, extra mayo with a side of potato salad. Both had approved of the food, although Artie picked the accompanying pickle spear touching it as little as possible with two fingers as though some disease infested thing, offering it to Quinn whose eyes went wide in excitement accepting it. "Left over pregnancy craving," she explained.

They sat in relative quiet for several minutes eating. Finally after they were both around halfway through their food Quinn spoke again, "Okay, I need to be serious about something and ask your advice. Jumping back to an earlier subject, I had coffee with Kurt, Mercedes, and Blaine and made my apologies to them and they all accepted, but they said that for us to really be friends again, I was going to have to mend fences with Rachel."

"Wait! They're… like holding their friendship for ransom? Make nice with Rachel or else?" Artie asked confusedly.

"No, nothing like that," Quinn clarified. "It's more like, they, Kurtcedes, as you called them, spent most of this year getting to know Rachel, becoming really close with her and I was given to understand that they spend a lot of time with her, so spending time with Kurtcedes would necessitate spending time with Rachel as well…"

"Team Diva," Artie put in.

"Team Diva? Do we have portmanteaus for everyone in glee in every imaginable pairing?" Quinn asked.

"Pretty much," he replied.

"What would ours be?"

"Quartie," he responded.

"Quartie?" she said questioningly.

"Would you rather be 'Abray?' of 'Fabrams'?"

"Okay, no I think Quartie works. What about your bromance with Puck?"

"Oh come one, Quinn. That one's easy. Puck and Artie? Partie!"

Quinn chuckled and shook her head. "Oh my dear God. Alright, we're getting off course. I have to figure out some way of making three years of horrendous treatment of Rachel right and not just because of Kurtcedes, but because I have treated her like hell and she didn't deserve it. The problem, and this is where I need your advice, is how to go about that. I have no clue. Just apologizing seems weak. Thoughts?"

"I have an idea that might work, but it's very dependent on one variable," Artie said.

"I'm all ears," Quinn said excitedly.

"Do you happen to know or does anyone you know happen to know Barbara Streisand?"

Quinn's brow dropped and she threw her napkin at him. "Jerk," she said playfully, "I thought you had a real solution. I was about to pledge my undying fealty to you for your assistance in this, my greatest challenge, and you're making a joke."

"Hey!" he protested. "It could have been a real solution." Quinn glared at him. "Okay, it wasn't _likely_ to be a real solution, but it was possible." He sat and contemplated for a while. Quinn sat silently enjoying her meal while he thought. "It's weird, you know? I've known Rachel for years, even before Glee Club we had classes together and 'Abrams' 'Berry' pretty close together alphabetically so we've always been in proximity, but I couldn't honestly say that I know Rachel all that well, aside from the things she makes known, the stuff you already know. I'm friends with people that are friends with her, but it's not a math problem, the transitive property doesn't apply. I know this isn't a simple question, but where do you two stand? I mean, I know the whole Finn thing, but aside from him, just between the two of you, aren't you guys okay? I mean you did that 'I Feel Pretty/Unpretty' thing together, right, and went with her when she thought she wanted a nose job."

"Heh," Quinn huffed, "yeah, and then Prom Night happened." Artie remained silent bearing a quizzical look. Quinn sighed, "Okay, long story short, when I lost Prom Queen I yelled at her that it was her fault and stormed out. She followed me into the restroom where I slapped her in the face. I apologized immediately but she wasn't even mad, said she appreciated the drama of it. Then… then she basically told me that I didn't have to and shouldn't settle for being just some pretty face, which honestly, I think that touched off the whole journey of self-discovery. So not only do I have to apologize for making her life Hell for the last three years, but I also have to find some way of thanking her for changing my life. It's a little daunting."

After another couple minutes of contemplation Artie spoke again, "Okay, this may be overly simplifying things but can you not just tell her that? I mean, it does kind of sound like something out of a movie or TV show or something, right? Bully attacks victim and recoils from herself in horror of who she is and learns to change her terrible, terrible ways. Think she might appreciate the drama of that? Even if you guys don't end up best friends or whatever, you can bury the hatchet."

"Could it really be that simple?"

"Brittany always said that things are almost always simple. It was only people who were complicated."

"Brittany said that?"

"Well, that was the distilled essence of it, anyway, but it's kind of true. I can't tell you how Rachel will react, but you can say your peace and if nothing else, you'll feel better and you'll have satisfied Kurtcedes' condition for being friends again."

"Thanks, Artie," she said looking like maybe she had just a tiny bit more peace of mind than she had before. "I guess I should be getting you back home, huh?"

"Yeah," Artie agreed looking at his watch, "it is getting on to be that time." Since dinner after the movie was his idea, Artie paid over Quinn's objections to split it. They loaded back up into Quinn's car and Quinn delivered Artie back to the Abrams house. The porch light was on but all the interior lights were off. Quinn marveled at the notion that not only was Artie trusted enough to not break curfew that no one even had to wait up on him but that knowing no one was waiting up on him, Artie never even thought of a second about breaking curfew.

Once Artie was again unloaded from Quinn's car she took one of his hands in hers and said, "Thanks for coming out with me tonight, Artie. As always with you, I had a ton of fun, and thanks for talking me through my freak out."

"I'm reasonably certain that's what friends are for," he said with a smile.

"So with the understanding of a mutual physical attraction that neither of us is prepared to act on and that things may occur that on the surface are a great deal more intimate than a strictly platonic relationship and that said things don't necessarily mean anything, would you mind if when I hug you good night in a minute that I do so while sitting on your lap? I always feel awkward bending at the waist and wrapping my arms around your head. It's a little strange."

Artie, trademark smile on his face, said, "A beautiful blonde wants to sit on my lap? Who am I to say no that?" Quinn climbed onto Artie's lap wrapping one arm around his shoulders, hooking her hands together. She rested her cheek against his temple and Artie wheeled the two of them towards the front door. When they got there, Artie asked, "You want to come in? We can watch Psycho, continue your Hitchcockian education?" He could feel her shake her head against his.

"Friday night. If I go in now, I won't want to leave and my mom expects me home at some point tonight.

"That's cool," he said.

"Hey, Artie?"

"Yeah?"

"You're the best friend I've ever had, and I mean, it's not exactly stiff competition or anything, but considering who the competition is, I thought you might like to know that." Artie understood that she meant Santana. The woman who'd beaten him in the competition for Brittany's heart was losing to him at something. That's what Quinn meant.

"Thanks, Qu…" His words were cut off by Quinn's lips pressed against his. Quinn had been aiming for Artie's cheek and he'd accidentally turned into it. Quinn's eyes were open, at first, wide in surprise at what she'd done, but then they'd quickly fluttered closed, so Artie closed his as well. Quinn reached up to cup Artie's cheek and then they weren't just kissing. They were making out. Quinn knew that she should stop this. They had an understood buffer that they would occasionally do something beyond what friends would do, but this was well beyond that. Quinn understood all this, and yet she didn't want to stop it because as it turned out, Artie was one hell of a kisser. A moment later their mouths were open, tongues were sliding together, and Artie's very strong hands were pressed against her back, pulling her into him. Finally Quinn broke contact with Artie. Before she could say anything, Artie looked her in the eye and said, "Quinn, do me a favor please, and don't freak out about this."


	8. Two Weeks Later

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: Here you have proof positive that flattery will get you everywhere with me. After publishing the last chapter I had every intention of working on "What's Your Fantasy" but then I went and got like nine reviews on chapter 7 and I just had to reward you guys and alleviate the anticipation of the cliffhanger. Hope you like…**

**Chapter 8**

**Two Weeks Later**

Quinn didn't freak out when she kissed Artie nor did she freak out when he kissed her back. She didn't freak out at the chaste kiss on the cheek he gave her after he implored her not to freak out. She didn't freak out when he went in the house nor did she freak out on the drive home, though it was some effort not to. She didn't freak out when she'd briefly recounted the day's events to her mother, leaving out The Kiss, of course, nor did she freak out in the shower which if the truth be known she'd run a little colder than normal. She didn't freak out while drying her hair nor did she freak out while getting dressed for bed. She wanted to freak out when she saw she had a text message from Artie waiting on her, but since it just said, "Had fun tonight. Sleep well." she didn't freak out. She didn't freak out when she sent him a similar text in reply.

Then she got into bed and laid down, and then… well, then Quinn freaked out. It was, in fact, a pretty hardcore freak out. She lay in bed staring up at the ceiling stressing out about that kiss, that amazing, soul-scorchingly hot kiss, into the wee hours that night. She thought about the implications and the expectations. Then she thought that she was being stupid because they'd just had a conversation about there being no implications and having no expectations. But then how could there be no expectations after that kiss? That kiss was so intense that had Quinn not been sitting on Artie's lap, she was certain she'd have gone weak in the knees, literally. Suffice to say Quinn didn't get much sleep that night.

The next morning she fired off a text message to Artie saying her mom was making her go to Columbus with her to visit family, which was only a lie in that her mother wasn't _making_ her go. She had an Aunt Christie and a Cousin Kira in Columbus that her mother was going to visit and she'd invited Quinn along. Quinn hadn't seen them in years so she panicked and accepted her mom's invitation and blamed familial obligation. Artie, of course, being Artie understood and said they'd reschedule. After that, Quinn had avoided him for a week. Communication between them was sparse and perfunctory. Artie would text her about something and she'd text back that she was busy with this or that and the couple times he tried to call, he got her voicemail. The second week of Quinn's trip they pretty much maintained radio silence, Artie having gotten the message.

Two weeks after The Kiss, Artie was spending Friday afternoon doing some marathon Mario Kart in his room when there was a knock at his door. "Come in," he called perhaps a little more loudly than was necessary.

"Hey, Ace," said Art as he opened the door.

"What's up, Dad?"

"You've got a visitor in the living room."

"Send them in."

"I don't think Alexis is going to let her."

"Her?" Artie repeated absently before things started to sink in. "Alexis?" He quickly paused his game, threw down his Wii mote, and made his way out of his bedroom. Art had to act quickly to get out of his son's way or be run over as the boy was in a hurry. Artie quickly made his way down the down the hall and into the family room to find his little sister perched on the lap of the now mostly pink-haired Quinn Fabray.

"Artie!" Alexis shouted. She jumped up, ran to her brother, and flung herself into his lap. "Look what Quinn brought me!" She excitedly shoved her right forearm into Artie's face proudly display a new silver charm bracelet.

"That's pretty sweet looking," Artie said, "Did you say thank you?"

"Yeah," she said, "and Quinn's totally got one just like it so we match."

"That's cool."

Quinn stood up from the couch and made her way over to them. She offered up her right wrist next to Alexis's to display her bracelet. Alexis looked up at Quinn and smiled and then back at her brother still smiling. Quinn said, "Hey, Lexi, hon. I need to borrow your brother for a little while, okay? I have to talk to him about some stuff."

"Will you be here for pancakes in the morning?" she asked.

"I've got some stuff to go do later, but I'll come back, okay? I promise," Quinn held out her right pinky. Alexis smiled and linked her pinkies with Quinn's.

"You can sleep in my room this time and we'll make the fruit," Alexis said as she hopped down off of Artie.

Artie looked at Quinn. "You want to talk in here?" he said nodding toward his bedroom. Quinn nodded. He led the way as Quinn followed. She closed the bedroom door behind them.

When she heard it click shut Quinn said, "I missed you" and bit her bottom lip.

"Missed you, too," Artie replied. "Why didn't you call?"

Quinn sighed and said, "Because I'm a jerk." She sighed again and ran her hand through her hair. "Because I… I did exactly what you said not to do and freaked out. I just told you that you were my best friend and then I was making out with you and then I was home, alone with my thoughts, and my thoughts wanted me to do it again and then my thoughts were on the fact that you are my best friend and what if I screw that up and I panicked and did something stupid and ran. I'm sorry. I promise it won't happen again."

"Are you sure?" Artie said a hint of anger in his voice, "because I've been dropped like a hot rock twice now, and yeah Tina had good reasons and Brittany had her reasons, but that doesn't make it suck any less for me."

"I know that. God, do I know that?" Quinn said. "Finn and Sam both had nothing but reasons to break up with me. Sam caught me off guard, but with Finn both times I was completely expecting it. I knew it was coming and still…" she trailed off her thought.

"So," Artie began, "do we just ignore The Kiss? I mean, it doesn't have to mean anything."

"Well, it can't mean nothing, Artie," Quinn quickly countered. "That was the best kiss of my life and I've had some pretty great kisses, so I can't really just push it away as just something that happened." Artie beamed with pride at this, "but at the same time, I not quite ready to call you my boyfriend yet either. I'm sorry, my stupid hang up. So I've got an alternate proposition for you… or rather for us that I think will help in preventing further freak outs."

"Okay," he said, "let's hear it."

"We officially say to hell with the labels."

"That's your plan?"

"In essence, yes. We just be ourselves. We hang out and have fun like we always do but if I want to hold your hand or feel the desire to kiss you again, I'll do that too, assuming you're willing, that is, and you can do the same with me and if it turns out that we find ourselves doing that a lot, then we can revisit the parameters of our relationship and make it official at that point."

"So are you making the glasses a permanent part of your new look?" Artie asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Um, yeah, I think I might, or at least most of the time. They're far less of a hassle than contacts… and you said you like them, or you like me in them."

"So, funky colored hair, glasses, skinny jeans, and an 'I don't like labels' attitude? Who'd have thought Quinn Fabray would turn out to be a hipster? Do you hang out at Pitchfork Media?"

Quinn laughed somewhat confusedly, "I don't even know what that is."

"Oh God, she's too cool to know about Pitchfork! Total hipster. Have you gone vegan yet?"

"You need to stop, and no, I am not, nor shall I ever be, a vegan. Bacon is two of the five food groups and I will never give it up."

"Oh, obsessed with bacon. Big time hipster!"

"Artie, I will hurt you, wheelchair or not," Quinn said sticking out her tongue.

Artie smiled at her. "Okay," he said, "I accept your apology. However, before I accept this new game plan for our interpersonal interactions, I'd like to take it for a test drive, just to see if it stands up to trial."

"Meaning you want to kiss me again?" Quinn asked.

"Meaning yes," Artie replied quickly. Quinn looked back to the door and locked it before crossing to the room to Artie. She leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his lips and held it there. He reached up grabbing her around the waist pulling her onto his lap once again. To Artie's dismay, Quinn was pretty insistent on keeping her mouth closed and her tongue to herself this time, but he heard her moan just from lip-to-lip contact so he felt good about the kiss all in all.

When they broke off, Quinn, still perched on Artie's lap, smiled and said, "See? No freaking out."

"Indeed," Artie said.

"So you accept our new game plan, then?"

"I do."

"Excellent," she said climbing off him to retrieve her bag from the floor near the door where she had deposited it earlier, "because I got you something in Columbus, too. I just didn't want it to feel like I was trying to buy your forgiveness or guilt you into accepting my plan." She reached into the bag and produced a very book-shaped brown paper package tied with string and handed it to Artie. He took the package, sat it on his lap, and untied it.

When he unwrapped the package, his jaw dropped open. "Quinn, is this what I think it is?"

"Do you think it's a first edition copy of _Slaughterhouse Five_?" He nodded silently. "Then it is what you think it is."

"Quinn, this is… I can't take this. It had to have cost hundreds of dollars at least."

"Artie, my family is worth a ton of money, a rather large mountain of which belongs to me. If I can't use that money to make my friends happy, then what good is it? I know Vonnegut is your favorite author and I know this is your second favorite book by him, behind _Cat's Cradle_. The vintage books store in Columbus didn't have a copy of _Cat's Cradle_. They had this, so I got it for you. You can and _will_ accept it or you _will_ hurt my feelings and you _won't_ kiss these lips again for quite some time," she finished with a smile.

Artie laughed and said, "Well, when you put it like that I guess there's nothing for me but to say thank you, Quinn. This is amazing. Lean back down here for a second." She did and he threw an arm around her neck and hugged her, opting not to push his luck with the kissing quite yet. He released her after a minute and asked, "So how was your trip?"

"It was actually kind of cool," she said, "once I got over my freak out, anyway. It's been probably six or seven years since I've seen my Aunt Christy or my cousin Kira. As it turns out, they're kind of the black sheep of the family which in my family means they're pretty awesome."

"So not uptight conservative Christian jerks?"

"No, definitely not," Quinn confirmed. "Kira is actually very gay, and Aunt Christy had the backbone to fly in the face of the rest of the family to actually love and support and be proud of her daughter for who she is, which for any member of my family is borderline miraculous. Kira's really cool. Reads and loves a lot of music, kind of reminded me of you a lot. She's a political science major at OSU. She took me around the campus and met some of her friends. Got hit on by some of her friends. Went to a poetry reading at the book store where I got your book. Aunt Christy caught me ogling her camera, she's a photographer, and she flat out handed me this," Quinn produced a high zoom Nikon digital camera from her bag, "said it was mine. I wonder if your mom would give me some pointers, she's obviously really handy with a camera."

"She is," Artie confirmed. "She actually minored in photography in college. I'm sure she'd be happy to help however she can." Quinn snapped a picture of Artie and then another just because she could. "So you said you had plans to go do something this afternoon?"

"Yeah, I'm having lunch with Rachel in about an hour."

"You know what you're going to say?"

"I don't have a speech written but have a detailed outline in my mind," she said.

"I was supposed to go do some Mario Kart with Puck in the Man Cave, did you need me to come with for emotional or moral support?" he offered.

"Nah, go get you bromance on."

"I'll call you after?"

"Sounds good. I better get going, you know what Rachel thinks about tardiness," Quinn leaned over and kissed Artie on the cheek and went to leave.

When she had the door open Artie said, "Hey, Quinn. I forgot to say. I like your hair."

"Thanks. I was hoping you would. I like it too. I think I'm going to keep it for a while."


	9. Serious Conversations

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: Almost a week without an update. I know, I suck. Stupid job always interfering with my hobbies. What are you gonna do? As always, reviews have magical effects on my ability to find time to write. Just sayin…**

**Chapter 9**

**Serious Conversations**

Twenty minutes into their gaming session, Artie could see that Puck wasn't even slightly in the mood for Mario Kart so they switched over to Call of Duty. They teamed up and made short work of all the random teams they kept getting paired against. They often found that they only teams that could give them a real challenge were groups of their friends. Puck called Finn while Artie called Mike. Mike said he had plans with Tina today and was too busy. Finn had just simply said he was "workin on something" and refused to elaborate or log on. Sam's family was still having a hard time financially so Sam didn't even have an X-Box much less and X-Box Live account or any free time to spend playing video games. Kurt didn't play, nor did Blaine as far as they knew. Neither of them really wanted to talk to or deal with the non-Glee members of the football team, so they eventually settled for doing the unthinkable, playing story mode.

Three missions in Artie had something on his mind but wasn't really sure how to broach the subject since he and Puck don't really talk about things. "Hey, can we pause for a minute?"

"Yeah, man, you gotta take a leak or something?" Puck replied.

"No, I need to talk to you about something."

"Dude, we can talk and shoot things at the same time. Cover me."

Artie sighed and pulled the battery pack out of his controller, forcibly pausing the game. Desperate times. "I need to talk to you about Quinn," he said.

"Dude! This is the Man Cave! We don't talk about chick shit in the Man Cave!" Puck started getting loud.

"Well, we don't about 'chick shit' in public either," Artie said, "and that pretty much the only places we ever are, but we need to talk about this.

"Whatever. You guys are friends. Who gives a crap?"

"Yeah, we _are_ friends, but I think we're going to be more than that, probably pretty soon."

"So what?" Puck spat out, clearly bitter. "Good for you. What do I care? Why are you telling me this?

"I'm telling you this," Artie said, "because I know you _do_ care. I don't know the full extent of your relationship with Quinn, but we're bros and I know that at least once upon a time there was something between you."

"Yeah, dude, something called a baby. Just because we don't get to raise her doesn't mean there isn't some kind of bond still there. Probably always will be."

"So that's all there is then? A bond shared by parents?" Puck looked frustrated like he was tired of the inquiries but he also looked like he had something on his mind. "Hey, man, it's me alright? You don't _always_ have to be Puckzilla around me, okay?"

"Alright, dude, listen up cuz this is only time we're _ever_ having this conversation. You got it?" Puck said. Artie nodded. "I love her. She's the first girl I ever loved, and that's not something that goes away, y'know? Like I'm sure Tina still means something to you, right?"

"Yeah," Artie replied.

"But Q doesn't love me, she never did and because of what I did, getting her pregnant, she probably never will. I know that and sucks for me and shit, but that's fine cuz I'm happy with Lauren, she rocks my fuckin world. So I dunno, dude, if Quinn makes you happy then I guess go for it or whatever, just be sure to do better by her than I did. I mean, I guess that's not saying much, but you know what I mean."

"Thanks, Puck," Artie said plugging the power pack back into his controller.

Puck turned his attention back to the game and started playing again. "Just fair warning though, bro. You hurt her and…" Puck popped a wicked no-scope headshot on an enemy on screen and then looked back at Artie pointedly.

"Dude!" said Artie.

"Just sayin."

**X X X X X**

Quinn had arrived at the coffee shop early this time, both as a reaction to be so late the last time and because of who she was there to meet. Quinn had decided on her self-imposed exile that it was time to screw up her courage and make this apology, and finally, once and for all, put the past behind her and move forward with New Quinn, but now she found herself insanely anxious. As she'd told Artie, she had a mental outline of the conversation that she'd wanted to have, but she was suddenly unsure that it was good enough or worried that Rachel would want to deviate too far from her intended remarks. She knew it was just nerves but somehow she couldn't help it. This was a situation where she had absolutely no idea what sort of reaction she'd get and that always made her nervous.

When she saw Rachel enter the shop, Quinn called out to the brunette, "Rachel." Quinn saw the other girl looking around the shop for her, not seeming to notice when she looked more or less right at Quinn. She raised her hand in the air and repeated her call to Rachel, who looked even more lost. Finally, Quinn got up from her seat and walked up to her.

"My word, Quinn," Rachel said in surprise at this New Quinn. "I have to admit that due to certain issues in my life I had forgotten that you cut your hair when we were in New York, so adding in this new style of dress, the pink hair, and the glasses, I hardly recognized you."

Quinn smiled and said, "That's part of what I'm going for, so thanks. I've got us a table over here. Can I buy you a beverage?"

"It's been suggested by many that I should limit my caffeine intake, I think due to my perceived high-strung or uptight natures and they charge entirely too much for a bottle of water so," Rachel reached into her bag and pulled out a partially consumed one liter bottle of water, "I brought my own. Shall we sit?"

"Yes. Right over here," Quinn ushered them to her table where they took seats opposite one another. "Thanks for coming to meet me today, Rachel."

"You're very welcome, Quinn. I must say that I was somewhat surprised to get your message this morning and I was intrigued as to the nature of the invitation, and am even more so now that I see what could almost be described as an entirely different person that the girl I knew just a month ago."

"Well, if that isn't the perfect prompt, I don't know what is. I am a different person, or at the very least, I'm trying to be. That old person, she didn't make me happy so I'm trying to be someone better, and part of that means righting my past wrongs which of course means setting things straight with you. I struggled with how to go about it since just saying 'I'm sorry' didn't seem remotely sufficient for making your life hell for the last three years. I mean, I am sorry. Everything I've done to you was completely unwarranted. From the mendacious rumors to the pornographic doodles to the hateful monikers, I was completely out of line." Rachel sat silently not quite sure what to make of this situation. Quinn continued, "Like I said, I don't really think that is really sufficient to make up for three years of torment, so I also have a couple of things for you." Quinn reached into a shopping bag that she had with her sitting on the floor next to her and picked out the smaller of the two objects. "I spent several hours this past Sunday sifting through all the pictures that I took in New York and I found this one and thought you'd really like to have it." Quinn placed the silver framed picture on the table front of Rachel. In the frame was a picture of Rachel and Kurt standing close together, Kurt's arm around Rachel's shoulders. Both were mid-belly laugh, Kurt wiping a tear from his eye.

"Quinn this is amazing. Did you take this?" Quinn just nodded. "This is great. Thank you so much." Rachel clutched the frame against her chest.

"You're very welcome. The second thing I want to give you will be a little less obvious why I'm giving it to you, but…well." Quinn reached back into the bag and grabbed the other item and placed the red, white, and black garment on the table between them.

Rachel looked at it confusedly and said, "It's a Cheerios uniform."

"Don't worry," Quinn said reassuringly, "I'm not recruiting."

"I should hope not as you would find yourself quickly rebuffed in such an endeavor."

"I'm done with Cheerios. I'm not going back out next year no matter how much Coach Sylvester may beg or threaten or cajole. When we walked off the team last year we had to return all of our uniforms, but when Sylvester kicked me off the team sophomore year, she never asked for my uniforms back. I returned most of them but I held onto one of them, this one, as a sort of security blanket, I guess. It also happens to be my very first Cheerios uniform, and it's my last tie to the old Quinn Fabray, so then I think it's only fitting that I give it to you, the person I most wronged with the power this uniform afforded me."

"What do you want me to do with it?" Rachel asked.

"You do whatever you want with it," Quinn replied quickly. "If you want to deposit in the dumpster out back, do that. If you want to burn it in effigy, do that. If want to hang it from the wall in your house and throw darts at it, do that. If you want to deface the thing and mail it to Coach, I'll give you her address." Rachel couldn't help but smile at this last suggestion. "It's a symbol, Rachel, or if you would prefer, a metaphor."

"And metaphor's are important," Rachel finished her catchphrase. She looked over the proffered uniform. "Quinn, while I'm certainly happy to accept your apology for your past actions, I'm not sure what to think about all of this. It seems every step forward we take in our often volatile relationship is followed almost immediately by at least two steps backwards."

"Fair enough," Quinn responded, "I certainly see where you're coming from. Look, Rachel, this is just about me making apologies and trying to make amends as best I can. I'm not expecting forgiveness here because God knows I don't deserve it."

"Forgiveness is an act of mercy, Quinn," Rachel said, "It's not about who does and doesn't deserve it, and while I wish to forgive you and in time I almost certainly will, I can't help but have doubts about this being some sort of set-up for something else. Which is not to say I doubt you sincerity or that I am impugning your word…"

"It's just reflexive at this point, I understand. In the entire time that you've known me, I've done frighteningly little without an ulterior motive of some kind. My past is my cross to bear Rachel. You shouldn't feel bad about reacting the way you do. I have no illusions about you and I. I don't expect forgiveness nor do ever expect that we'll become best friends overnight… or ever. I just want to make a lasting peace in Glee Club, at least peace between you and I. I don't hate you, I never did. I was jealous of you and your ability to be so at home in your own skin no matter what anyone says which is something I'm just learning how to do." They both sat silently for a moment before Quinn added, "I'm just going to say this and let time be the proof you need to believe it: this isn't a set-up. I'm not out to get you anymore. I'm not going to try to take anything away from you. It's certainly not about Finn. I am well and truly over him."

"So is it true then?" Rachel asked.

"Depends on what 'it' is," Quinn replied.

"I'd heard a rumor that you were dating Artie. I know that's a bit more personal than is strictly befitting the current level of our relationship. You can elect not to answer if you so choose."

Quinn just smiled and shook her head slightly. "Those gossipy bitches."

"Who would you be referring to, Quinn?" Rachel asked with a knowing smile on her face, fighting off laughter.

"Our mutual friends, the two-headed gossip monster known as Kurtcedes and don't bother denying they were the ones that told you because they're the only ones that knew."

"I notice you're not denying anything either."

"No," Quinn said simply, "not denying anything. I mean, we still aren't officially dating per se, but we are beyond being just friends. We aren't labeling it right now, just enjoying each other's company. And he's how I know I am well and truly over Finn. After spending just a month with Artie, I know I could never again be with someone that doesn't challenge me intellectually."

Rachel sighed heavily and said wistfully, "Yes, that must be nice." There followed a very pregnant silence between them. "Speak your mind, Quinn."

"Okay, this is _so _not my place to say, but here goes. I don't know why you're back with Finn, but just promise me you aren't going to let him hold you back from your dreams. You deserve so much more than to end up here in Lima as Mrs. Finn Hudson."

"No, certainly not. I _am_ going to New York after graduation. Finn understands that and he can follow me there if he so chooses, but I think we both know that he will not."

"Good, I'm going, too."

"What?" Rachel asked.

"Don't worry, Rachel. It's a city of 8.5 million people, I'm sure if you want to avoid me it won't be even a little bit difficult for you. Might be harder for me to avoid you, what with your face showing up on billboards and bus stops due to your inevitable stardom," Quinn said teasingly.

"No, it's not that. It's just that three months ago, _you_ were the one resigning yourself to staying in Lima and being the future Mrs. Finn Hudson, and now all of a sudden you have ambitions for yourself after graduation. When did all this start?"

"Well, it really came to fruition at Nationals. I pretty much fell in love with The City, but honestly, and this yet another thing I owe you, because it started on Prom Night."

"Prom Night?" Rachel questioned.

"Yeah, after I slapped you, you said that I was the prettiest girl you'd ever seen but that I was much more than that. It was the tiny little seed of an idea that took root in my mind. It was the first time anyone had ever suggested that I had any sort of individual worth unto myself. Then the break up with Finn, then New York and the haircut. After that I pretty much felt like a new person. I still don't know what this new person is going to do with her life, but I know where I'm going."

During this whole speech Rachel smiled very brightly at Quinn. "It's good to know you now value yourself properly as a human being Quinn and I'm glad that you have the beginnings of a dream for yourself. I am ecstatic that I played some part in helping you find this," Rachel paused. "I'm still not sure if I want your Cheerios uniform."

Quinn simply said, "You can leave it here if you want, but it's yours now, not mine."


	10. The Fourth of July

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: So I thought I'd take this time to pepper in the rest of the Glee Club and do something a little more light and fun since the last chapter was all heavy emotions.**

**Chapter 10**

**The Fourth of July**

After her heart to heart with Rachel, as promised, Quinn returned to the Abrams house to a delicious family dinner and Quinn quickly discovered that Art Abrams was just as pleasant and personable as the rest of the family. The only odd duck of the family, apparently, was the middle child, Adam. Artie had warned Quinn from the outset that Adam wouldn't like her or if he did, he wouldn't admit to it since he had a very "Everything Artie Likes is Stupid" attitude. He wasn't openly hostile about it, just distant and cold. After dinner was movie time, the family plus Quinn, minus Adam gathered in the living room to watch Enchanted. After the movie, Artie, Quinn, and Alexis migrated to Artie's room for music time. Alexis was apparently a burgeoning audiophile like her big brother and was the only eight year old that Quinn had ever met that couldn't stand teenie music. You'd find no Justin Bieber or Demi Lovato on this girl's iPod, just The Beatles, The White Stripes, and Coldplay. After music time was bed time and Quinn was thankful for it as it had been a draining day. As she'd said earlier in the day and as per Amy's request weeks earlier, Quinn roomed with Alexis and spent the next couple of hours lying in bed with the younger girl playing a slight variation of the game 20 Questions which Quinn dubbed 20,000 Questions. She spent much of the night being quizzed on a range of subjects from her favorite color all the way up to whether Quinn wanted to get married and how many kids she wanted to have and how awesome Glee Club was. By the time Alexis finally succumbed to sleep, Quinn was certain that the little girl knew her better than her own mother did.

Saturday was, as always, Pancake Day and another morning of great family times and raucous laughter. After breakfast while washing the dishes together, Quinn asked Amy to show her some things with her new camera which Amy agreed to happily. The girls, along with Alexis made an impromptu trip to the park where Amy showed Quinn all the functions of the camera and then she and Alexis served as Quinn's models. Quinn got some really good pictures and more importantly she really felt like she'd begun to learn something about being a photographer. Saturday afternoon Artie, after finding out that Quinn had never seen any of the Indiana Jones movies, decided to correct this, watching Raiders of the Lost Ark, Temple of Doom, and Last Crusade back to back to back which Quinn enjoyed although not as much as she enjoyed cuddling with Artie while they watched them. After the movies, it was time for Quinn to head home, much as she didn't want to.

"You planning on going to Mercedes' for the Fourth?" Quinn asked. They both knew that the Jones Family was having a cookout/pool party for the Fourth of July on Monday thrown mostly for the Glee Club.

"I'm not sure I'm ready for that," Artie responded.

"Seeing Britt and Santana?" Quinn clarified. Artie just nodded. "I understand. It's one of the downsides of dating in this incestuous little family of ours. Seeing Sam and Santana together at Rachel's party was less than thrilling, but there's strength in numbers right? We've got each other."

"Let me text Mike and Tina. If they're going to be there, then that should be enough for us to distract ourselves from them if needs be."

Quinn went home and shortly after she arrived Artie texted her to say that he was in for the party. After dinner they started back up watching Mad Men together on Netflix and talking on the phone. Quinn eventually fell asleep listening to Artie talk about shot composition or production design or something.

Sunday passed far too slowly both of them. Quinn went with her mother to church in the morning and out to lunch after with her mother's social circle which meant a lot of judgmental Christian women and their judgmental Christian daughters, none of whom seemed to think much of Quinn's funky new hair color. The Abrams family spent all day in Kenton visiting Art's Aunt Ruth, a pleasurable task for no one involved.

Late Monday morning just before noon, Quinn arrived to finding Artie and Alexis waiting on her to pick them up. Alexis excitedly told Quinn that she got to go with them. Artie clarified that Sam had to watch his little brother and sister, so Mercedes had invited him to bring them over since her little brother was going to be there as well. After that she'd invited all the younger siblings along as well and Alexis was thrilled to hear that she could come and meet everyone in the Glee Club. They all three loaded into Quinn's car and made their way to the Jones house.

When they got there, they parked on the street and unloaded. In the driveway, Finn, Puck, Sam, and Blaine were heavily involved in what appeared to be a game of 2-on-2 basketball. "What's up, A-man?" called Puck not taking his focus off of Sam and the ball. "You should come get in on this. We can grab Mike make this into three-on-three."

Artie continued to wheel himself inside saying, "I think everyone's vast height advantage on me would make my involvement in the game somewhat irrelevant. Thanks for offering though."

"Yeah, man. We'll see you in a bit."

The trio made their way up the rest of the driveway and were met at the door by Olivia Jones, Mercedes' mom. She was standing with her hands on her hips, head cocked to the side and smiling. It was pose they were used to seeing out Mercedes. "Quinn Fabray, my daughter told me you dyed your hair pink, even showed me a picture on Facebook, but I didn't believe it til just now." Quinn just smiled and flipped her hair with her fingers. "Child, get over here and give me a hug." Quinn closed the distance between then and slipped into the familiar crushing hug. Olivia whispered to Quinn, "Don't you ever go a year without coming to see me again, you hear me?"

Quinn nodded against her shoulder and said, "I'm sorry."

"Ain't nothing to be sorry about, honey. Now take your butt in the kitchen. There's drinks and snacks in there and your behind is too skinny," she smiled at the girl.

"Yes, ma'am," Quinn said with a smile.

"There's those manners I like, maybe you could teach those to Eddie," Olivia turned her attention to the other two, "Hey, Artie, you doing alright today?"

"Doing good. This is my baby sister, Alexis."

"Hi, Mrs. Jones," said the visibly excited eight year old.

"Hi, honey. Ya'll come on in. Eddie and the Evans kids are playing upstairs. Everybody else is out back by the pool. We're gonna start grilling in a few minutes, when everybody else gets here. Make yourselves at home," Olivia then looked back out to the boys in the driveway, "You boys be sure to come get something to drink soon. It's hot out here today. Gotta stay hydrated." There was a general chorus of "yes ma'am" from the boys in the driveway.

Inside, Alexis shot off to go play with the other kids. Quinn and Artie made their way into the kitchen and ran into Mike who looked at Artie and said, "Dude! Dude dude dude. I totally need to talk to you."

"Okay," said Artie.

He held up a bottle of water "I've gotta take this back to Tina, but I'll be right back. Oh, hey Quinn," he said as he was walking towards the back door

"Hey, Mike," she said smiling at the Asian boy's excitement. "Any idea what that was about?" she asked Artie who just shook his head no. They helped themselves to refreshments. Quinn took a bottle of water. Artie opted for cherry Kool-Aid. "Oooh, Artie, have you ever had Mrs. J's brownies?" Quinn asked grabbing up one of the treats in question.

"No, I don't believe I have," he answered. Before he even finished saying that, Quinn had one held out for him to take. He accepted, taking a bite. "Wow!"

"I know, right?"

Mike returned and said, "Okay, dude, I need to tell you about my idea for Tina's birthday present. I need your help with it."

"Okay," Artie replied.

"I'm going to go find Mercedes," Quinn said to Artie.

"You didn't have to leave or anything, Quinn," said Mike. "It's not like some big government secret or anything."

Quinn smiled at him, "It's okay. You guys discuss. If you need my help in any way, I'm glad to, just let me know."

"Thanks, Quinn," said Mike.

"I'll see you in a minute," said Artie.

"Dude. You and Quinn?" Mike questioned.

"I'm not sure yet," Artie responded. "We've been hanging out a lot this summer. At first it was us commiserating about being dumped but the subject of our ex's hasn't really come up recently… so maybe, I guess, is the best answer. But enough about me and my love life, what's this plan? Tina's birthday isn't until September."

"Oh, right, the plan. I wanted to give you a big heads up because it's kind of involved. Might take a while to make it. So you know how we did at Valentine's? You sang and I danced to 'P.Y.T.'"

"Uh, yeah, I seem to recall something like that," Artie teased.

"Right, of course you do. Okay, then I also heard that _you_ actually directed Kurt and Mercedes and Coach Sylvester's 'Vogue' video. Is that true?"

"Guilty," he replied.

"Okay," Mike began, "so what I want to do is for us to make our own music video, and dedicate it to Tina. I can get a bunch of people from my dance classes and do the choreography. I need you to sing the song and direct the video. What do you say?"

"I think it sounds awesome. Do you have a song picked out?" Artie asked.

"'OMG' by Usher. Tina loves it, plus I've always wanted to be in an Usher video."

"That's cool," Artie said. "I think I pull off Usher's vocals. Can you do Will I Am's? He's all Auto-tuned."

"We can try, right?" Mike replied.

"Absolutely," Artie smiled brightly, "Let me talk to my dad and see if we can use the studio on campus. If we can I'll call you and we'll go lay down the track sometime this week. Otherwise, I'll have to talk to some of the AV Club and gather up some equipment. You work out what you think the video should be. I'll put together some ideas too."

"Awesome! Thanks, dude. If you need my help with anything for Quinn, just give me a shout."

**X X X X X**

"So you and Artie came together," Mercedes said, "You two make it official yet?" The two girls sat together on the edge of the pool feet in the water. The beep of a moped horn announced the arrival of Lauren, who would undoubtedly join Kurt in watching the boys play basketball in the driveway for a while yet, leaving them just waiting on Brittany, Santana, and Rachel.

"I don't know," Quinn replied. "Is it official between you and Sam, yet?" Quinn nudged her friend in the shoulder.

"What… how did… I mean, what are you talking about?" Mercedes sputtered helplessly. She dropped her head realizing that she'd given herself away. "Does everybody know?"

"No," Quinn explained, "San and Britt said something about running into you guys or seeing you a couple of times, so they might suspect something. I remember the way you guys were at prom, but I was just taking a guess until you confirmed it. So has it been since prom?"

"Yeah, kinda. We sorta just started out hanging out and it kinda grew from there. It's okay, right? I mean, we're sistas and all, and I know there's like a rule about dating your friend's ex and all."

"Does he make you happy?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah," Mercedes said with a smile. "I mean, it's weird cuz besides Glee Club we got like nuthin in common, but yeah, he makes me happy."

"Then that's all I need to know," Quinn replied. "Just do better by him than I did."

"Happy Independence Day, fellow Glee Clubbers," Rachel announced her arrival from behind them.

"Hey, welcome to the party, Rachel," Mercedes turned to greet her and added, "…and Sunshine."

"Hi," said the tiny Filipino girl. "Rachel said it would be okay if I came. Hope that's fine."

"You did say to invite anyone I wanted to," Rachel put in.

"Yeah, s'totally fine," Mercedes said as she stood up to give the newly arrived girls a hug. "Even if you are the competition," she added with a smile.

"I'm not the competition anymore," Sunshine said, "As of tomorrow morning, I'm re-enrolled at McKinley."

"Are you serious?" Mercedes asked excitedly hugging the smaller girl again. "Awesome!"

"Welcome to New Directions," Quinn said, "or I guess, welcome back."

Twenty minutes later, Brittany and Santana finally arrived with Brittany's eleven year old sister, Charity in tow and the burgers and ribs hit the grill, as well as a pair of portabella mushroom caps for Rachel and Sunshine. Robert Jones and Mr. Schuester took turns manning the grill. The boys had migrated from the driveway to the pool. The little kids had come downstairs to join them as had Mike, Tina, Rachel and Sunshine. Kurt refused to mess up his hair by getting it wet and Mercedes had a weave to keep dry so they gossiped by themselves. Santana and Brittany lay out in the sun in tiny bikinis showing off their killer bodies. Quinn dragged a pair of lounge chairs out of the shade into the sun. Artie transferred himself onto one of them and Quinn took the other. Quinn quickly shed the baggy t-shirt and gym shorts that she'd been wearing over her bikini. 'Woah' Artie thought staring at her, 'Sexy back… like really, really, _really _sexy back.'

"See something you like, Mr. Abrams?" Quinn asked playfully.

"I, uh…" he stammered, "I see nothing I don't like, Miss Fabray."

Quinn scoffed and rolled her eyes, "Yeah, because stretch marks are so sexy."

"I see no stretch marks, Quinn, and I'll be honest. I was looking."

Quinn couldn't help but smile at Artie's flirtation, "You're such a smooth talker, Artie. I want to kiss you right now. I'm not going to because I'm not quite ready to explain that aspect of our relationship to the group yet, but just know I want to and that I'll owe you one later." Artie smiled wordlessly. Quinn went to work applying sunscreen, then handed the bottle to Artie and said, "Get my back?" as she sat on his chair, facing away. Artie sat up, squeezed out a generous amount of sunscreen, and started running his hands over Quinn's back. 'Oh my GOD he has strong hands.' Quinn thought. 'Of course he does, that's how he gets around. Get a hold of yourself, Fabray before you start moaning.' She did manage to contain the moan, but not the very contented sigh.

Artie was about to comment about this when Rachel called across the yard from the pool, "Mr. Schuester, while I hate to bring up club business at a party," she said as she quickly exited the pool wrapping herself in a towel. "You had asked me to be on the lookout for new recruits for the Glee Club since the bulk of the club is due to graduate, and while this might not be exactly what you had in mind, I believe the potential next generation of New Directions is within our midst."

Mr. Schuester looked confused but said, "Okay?"

"If you'll allow us one moment to prepare it seems that Eddie, Stacy, and Alexis…"

"Lexi," Alexis interjected.

"Lexi?" Rachel questioned.

"Yeah, you know, so we all sound the same. Eddie, Stacy, and Lexi."

"Ah, yes, I see now. Eddie, Stacy, and Lexi have a number prepared as something of an early audition for the club," Rachel said as she vigorously dried her hands before retrieving an iPod from her bag along with a set of portable speakers.

As she set up, the kids climbed out of the pool. Alexis spoke up, "So earlier, upstairs, we were playing Glee Club and I asked Rachel if we could audition since she is Captain and she said it was okay with her, if it was okay with you, Mr. Schuester."

Mr. Schuester smiled and said, "It is absolutely okay with me. You guys go right ahead."

They conferred with each other for a minute and then Alexis motioned for Rachel to start the music. When she did Beyonce and Jay-Z's "Crazy in Love" began playing and the girls started copying the choreography from the video. They were clearly very familiar with it. Eddie filled in for Jay-Z. Stacy and Lexi took turns with the lyrics. Part way through the second verse, Charity Pierce joined in dancing proving that at least some of her older sister's talent ran in the family. By the end of the song, everyone was smiling and very impressed with the girls' performances. When they were done, Mr. Schuester said, "Very impressive. I hereby declare you all to be Junior Members of New Directions. The first day of your Ninth Grade years, report to the choir room." The girls hugged and jumped up and down in excitement.

Quinn looked back across the back yard to see Santana by herself beckoning her over. "Hey, I'm going to go talk to Santana. You need anything before I go? You good on water?"

"Yeah," Artie replied, "all good."

No sooner had Quinn left, than Brittany sat down in her place. "Hey, Artie," she said.

"What's up, Brittany?"

"So much, lately, but I just sorta wanted a chance to talk to you, so I could tell you how super sorry am I for breaking your heart like I did. I wanted you to know how super awesome a boyfriend you were. I even asked San if you could date both of us, but she's like all the way gay and besides she says she's done sharing me with other people."

"I understand," Artie said, "I don't think I'd want to share you either."

Brittany smiled, "I want you to know I really did love you like super a lot. I just…"

"You had to follow your heart," Artie finished.

"Yeah," Brittany replied, "I've loved San since forever, I think."

"I understand. Thanks for talking with me about it."

"Hey, Artie," Brittany said after a moment's silence. "Are you like with Quinn now?"

"Would it be weird? Your ex and one of your best friends being together?"

"Weird? No, it would be super awesome!" Brittany said. "You're both like crazy smart and you guys look totally cute together, plus Q's totally in the closet about being a geek. She totally loves Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings and stuff like that. So are you guys together?"

"Not yet, not officially," he replied.

"Did you kiss her yet?" Brittany asked.

"Yeah, a little bit."

"Did you do that thing with your tongue like I taught you?"

"Yeah," Artie smiled in recollection.

"She'll totally be yours, then. You just gotta do whatever it takes. Make her feel all special, like when you sang me that totally sweet song in cooking class last year."

"Will it work on her?" Artie asked, "Because it clearly didn't work on you."

"It only didn't work because I was trying to get San to go to Prom with me, and Prom is a long ways off and also I don't think Quinn has feelings for San or at least not sexy feelings. You should totally go for it."

"Well, then, if you insist. I think I might just have the beginnings of a plan."


	11. On The Verge

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: Some of you have expressed interest in seeing Santana in this story, so here she is, although I somehow doubt this is quite what anyone had in mind when they asked for it. Feel free to suggest ideas for the story. I have a long term plan for this story but a lot of the details are still wide open.**

**Also, I wanted to get this up and published before going to work, so that didn't leave much time for proofing, so sorry for any mistakes. I'll correct anything major after I get home.**

**Chapter 11**

**On The Verge**

Another Wednesday afternoon and another yoga class for The Unholy Trinity, or at least it was supposed to be, but this particular Wednesday found Brittany visiting family in Akron with her mother so it was just Quinn and Santana. Once again they found themselves at The Lima Bean getting ready to caff up before their workout. They picked up their drinks and had a seat in the window. "So Coach called me yesterday," Santana said.

"Oh yeah?" Quinn asked skeptically, "And what was the topic of conversation?"

"Us, me, you, and B. Whether or not we would be coming back to the squad this year," Santana replied flatly.

Quinn was shaking her head before Santana even finished saying it. "Not me," she said, "I'm done with that. If you guys want to go back, more power to you."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I know you need things to fill up a college application, especially if you're planning on following Brittany to wherever she winds up, but I'm pretty sure I'm good. I don't need it. I've got a 4.0 GPA, National Honors Society. I'm in the Beta Club, I was the youngest captain of a National Champion Cheerleading team in the country, and I'm a member of a nationally ranked Show Choir. On top of that, I've got a compelling story of personal triumph over adversity what with being a homeless, pregnant teenager, and I've got a not so small truckload of my father's money to grease any wheels that need it. I have no need of being tortured by Sylvester. I'm done with it. What about you and B?"

Santana sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I dunno y'know? Like you said, I could use it for college and I gotta say I miss the respect that comes with the uniform, but…" she trailed off and cast her gaze at the cup in her hand. "Well, you know me and authority figures. I hate being told what to do, much less what I can and can't eat and how to dress and how to do my hair and who I can and can't associate with. Most of all I just fucking hate having divided loyalties, and for good or fucking ill my loyalty is with Glee Club now."

"Really?" Quinn said no small amount of surprise on her face. "Like seriously?"

"Serious as shit, Luce…"

"Don't call me that," Quinn interjected.

Ignoring her, Santana continued, "That motley band of weirdoes and freaks has had our damn backs since day one. We showed up to spy on 'em and sabotage 'em, half of them knew that and they still had our backs. That's loyalty and it may have taken me a _damn_ long time to figure it out, but I figured it the hell out, and I don't forget shit like that. Plus there's the whole…" Santana trailed off again.

Quinn looked concerned at her friend. "What? Santana, you can talk to me. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"It's not _that_ serious, Q. I just realized I haven't mentioned this to you, yet. You've probably already got memo, but I'm gay," Quinn chuckled slightly at her overreaction and nodded her head, "like, as Britt says, I'm all the way gay. All my history with boys was just, I dunno, running away or whatever."

Still smiling Quinn said, "Thanks for telling me, but you're right, I had picked up on that a while ago, and as long as we're formally stating things that are probably really obvious, then I should mention that it doesn't make the slightest difference to me who you love."

"Thanks, and yeah, it was pretty obvious, but two years ago it wouldn't have been when you were Head Cheerio and President of the Celibacy Club and Queen Bee and Good Christian Girl Quinn… basically before Glee and before you met and got to know Kurt," Quinn started to interrupt, but Santana held up a hand to cut her off. "I'm not saying you would have hated me for coming out to you, I'm saying I wouldn't have felt comfortable coming out to you. Hell do you think Sylvester and her Band of Bitches would have even let me figure out who I am?"

"Definitely not," Quinn said without even thinking about it.

"And if I do go back to Cheerios, how many of them do you think will call me a fucking dyke or whatever?"

"Only once to your face," said Quinn with a smile, "After you put one of them in traction, it'll all just be whispers."

"Yeah, but it'll still be there, and that was… is one of my biggest hang-ups about being out at school, but that gets back to my original point, is any of that sort of shit going to come from the Glee Club? Of course not, because that's just who the fuck they are. They accept us no matter what." Santana took a long draw of her coffee and savored it for a moment before swallowing. "I guess the long way around of answering your question is that I don't know if me and B are going back or not. I'm gonna have a one-on-one with Sylvester next week to talk about some shit, and then I guess we'll see from there."

"Fair enough," Quinn said.

"I will pass along your extreme disinterest to her, if you like."

"Thanks," Quinn said.

"What?" Santana demanded firmly.

"What?" Quinn echoed.

"Bitch, like I don't fucking know when you have shit on your mind. Do I have to tip your ass over or are you gonna spill on your own?"

"Just bear in mind the acceptance I gave you for your very recent romantic confessions…"

Santana interrupted, "You tell me you're gay for Berry and the mountain of shit we've thrown at her on your behalf was you being repressed, you're gonna cost me a Benjamin to Kurt, so while I'll be accepting, I'll also give you no end of shit for it."

Quinn chuckled, "No. Not Rachel, although we've made peace, she and I, so lay off of her."

"Fine, you're friends with the hobbit now, whatever. Speak!"

"You know, calling her a hobbit isn't really much of an insult. Most hobbits are decent, hard-working, loyal people who never hurt anyone."

"Oh God, Quinn, you're such a fucking nerd, you should just fucking go date Artie and be done with it."

Quinn just replied, "Okay."

Santana was momentarily stunned at this response. "Wait… what? Be kind, rewind."

"Brittany didn't tell you about this after the pool party? Why she had you beckon me over to you?"

"B was leaving for this family thing first thing the next morning and we weren't going to see each other for a week, didn't really leave us any time for _talking_."

"That's what I was going to tell you, I think I'm falling for Artie."

"Okay, so fall for him," Santana replied flatly with a small shrug of her shoulders.

"Really?" Quinn questioned. "Just like that? No lectures about how much he sucks or how he hurt Brittany last year or…"

"My beef with Artie started and ended with his dating Britt. I've got B now, so he's whatever now. I mean, I know I just told you that I don't do dick at all but even still I don't get it. I don't see the appeal at all, but he must be doing something right. He keeps pullin the hottest fucking girls in school, B, you… hell I wouldn't kick Tina out of bed."

"You think I'm hot?" Quinn asked playfully.

Santana scoffed. "Bitch, whatever, you know you're fine. Every Y-chromosome in the school isn't drooling over your charming personality or your upright citizenry. And what the hell, I'll admit it if your door swung this way you and I'd have ruined some bed sheets by now."

"Okay, now I'm not so sure I want to do yoga next to you. Gay is one thing, Sapphic creeper is another all together," Quinn stuck her tongue out at the Latina.

"Oh look who's a fucking word-nerd all of a sudden," Santana teased back. "Also, deploy that tongue at your own risk, Lucy."

"Whatever, Tana," Quinn taunted the girl back with her childhood nickname. "So if this does happen between Artie and I are you going to be civil?"

"Does he make you happy?" Santana asked in all earnestness.

"Yes, he does," Quinn responded with a bashful smile.

"Then what the fuck does it matter what I think? Go get your damn boy."

**X X X X X**

Wednesday found the Abrams house full of Evans kids. Charlie and Claire Evans had both managed to find work in the last week. Charlie had taken a groundskeeper/maintenance job at McKinley that paid slightly above minimum wage. Claire took an open housekeeping position at the local Hilton Suites Hotel where Amy Abrams was the manager. Both were pretty lousy jobs but they were paychecks all the same. Rather than be stuck at the crappy motel room they lived in, Artie had invited them over to the house to hang out. Alexis and Stacy had bonded big time at the pool party and were hugely happy to get to play Glee Club again. Of course, because Artie liked the Evans kids, Adam wanted nothing to do with them and fled the house to hang with a friend, so Artie, Sam, and Stevie played Mario Kart together.

"Oh my God, video games," Sam said enthusiasically, "Do you know how much I've missed video games?"

"I can't imagine a life without video games," said Artie, "or maybe I just don't want to."

"Well, I'm freaking in the zone today," Sam gloated, "Because I am steady kicking your butt, man."

It was the truth. Artie was getting his gaming ass handed to him because he couldn't concentrate in the slightest. He would like to have said that he was busy trying to keep an ear out for Stacy and Alexis since he was, strictly speaking, the man of the house with all the parents gone, but truthfully he was thinking about Quinn.

He'd been thinking about little else but Quinn for nearly two days now. The image of Quinn in that little pale pink bikini was burned into his brain. Days later he was certain he could draw it from memory… if he could draw. If that wasn't enough, Quinn had made good on her promise to kiss him after they were away from their friends and good Lord was it a hell of a kiss made all the more electric because Quinn was still wearing said little pale pink bikini and Artie had eventually shed his t-shirt to get a decent tan, so they both qualified as being half naked and there was _a lot _of skin on skin contact. Artie had some recollection of caressing Quinn's bare thigh and he most certainly remembered Quinn running her hands over his chest and arms… and, yes, he'd done that thing with his tongue, like Brittany taught him, and gauging by the moan it elicited, Quinn had enjoyed it… immensely.

After that Artie had resolved to follow Brittany's advice and do whatever it took to make Quinn his, officially. He'd racked his brain for ideas for some sort of gesture. He knew he wanted to take her out on the best date she'd ever been on which, all due respect to his friends, he knew wouldn't exactly be stiff competition, but he still wanted it to be something epic. For whatever reason he'd really latched onto Brittany's suggestion of singing to Quinn mostly because it was something he'd always wanted to do. That is, he'd always wanted to do it… and have it actually work. He'd poured through his iTunes library, it took a couple hours but he finally found the right song, but for it work right he needed to put the band back together. Mike and Puck were in; he just had to get Sam to agree.

"Hey, man," Artie began sheepishly, "I, um, I kind of need to ask you a favor but I know there's a pretty good chance that it could be really awkward for you so, if need or want to say no, I'll understand, but I have to ask."

"Dude, we're friends, and besides you got me out of that cramped motel room. You can ask me anything," Sam said with a smile.

"Remember you said that when I tell you that I'm going to ask Quinn out on a date, and I'm reasonably certain that she's going to say yes. On this date, I plan on serenading her but I want to do something different. Singing to the person you want has kind of become cliché amongst our group so I'm hoping to mix it up a little, be kind of different. Mike and Puck have already agreed to help."

"You want to put _The Justin Bieber Experience_ back together?" Sam asked teasingly.

"Sort of, but we aren't remotely going to sing Bieber, if for no other reason than because _you _sang Bieber to her and then dumped her. I don't want her associating our date with that experience. Also Justin Bieber is lame."

"Alright, man. I'm in. What are we singing?"

**X X X X X**

Hours later, the Evans boys had gone home, Alexis and Stacy had begged their parents into letting Stacy have a sleepover, and Artie had spent the evening working out the details of his date with Quinn. They were having another viewing party over the telephone and they were just finishing catching up on Mad Men. Artie knew he shouldn't be nervous about asking her out. Being nervous about the actual date, sure that made sense, but this was just asking her out. He was telling the truth when he'd said to Sam that he was pretty sure that she'd say yes, but for whatever reason he was seriously balking. He felt dumb. He had this plan worked out. Everything was in place. He just had to pull the trigger.

He took a deep breath and said, "Quinn, what are you doing Friday?"

"Mom's out of town again, so I was assuming I was crashing at yours for Pancake Day," she said. "Why what's up?"

"I was hoping to take you out to dinner," Artie replied.

"Like a date?" Quinn asked. Artie couldn't help but think that he'd heard a hint of hope in her voice just then and suddenly he was keenly aware of how fast his heart was beating.

"Yeah," he said with a big smile on his face, "exactly like a date." When she didn't respond, Artie's heart hit the floor, suddenly petrified that he'd broken whatever spell was going on between he and Quinn, that he'd rushed things. It had only been five days, after all, since she'd come back from Columbus and they'd worked things out. Artie cursed himself mentally for pushing this, he'd swore he wasn't going to push her and let her move at her pace.

"I'd love to," she said at last.


	12. The Date

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**Chapter 12**

**The Date**

Artie officially did not understand what was going on in his own head anymore. Wednesday, when he shouldn't have been nervous asking Quinn out, he was. He shouldn't have been. He was almost entirely certain that she would say yes, but for whatever reason he had been. Now, mid-Friday afternoon, hours before said date, he should be nervous as hell. He was about to take out Quinn Fabray… _the _Quinn Fabray one of the most beautiful girls in school, maybe the most beautiful, and yet he wasn't nervous, not even a little. Artie very often covered up his insecurities with an inflated bravado constantly telling everyone how awesome he is, but this wasn't that because there was no one around to impress. He hadn't told anyone in his family about the date yet, just in case things didn't work out like he'd hoped. Artie knew how much Quinn liked his family and liked being welcome in the house and he didn't want them acting weird around her if they didn't work out as a couple. And while he was aware of that as a possibility, he still wasn't nervous about it.

Quinn was a nervous wreck. She'd spent all morning trying to find the right thing to wear. Artie had been no help at all just telling her to dress comfortably. What did that even mean? Artie knew damn well that comfortable for her was yoga pants and a baggy t-shirt. She was almost certain that was _not _what he meant. Maybe he meant to wear something that was emotionally comfortable, meaning don't dress to impress, a pair of skinny jeans and a simple top, maybe, but what about shoes? He'd said to bring a jacket on the off chance that it would get chilly in early July. Did that mean they'd be outdoors or was he just talking about from the house to the car? Outdoors would likely mean a lot of walking which would tend to rule out heels. She couldn't really fault Artie for overlooking this detail since for him shoes were just to keep his feet dry and warm, plus, what guy actually thinks about a girl's shoe selection? "Okay, Fabray, focus. He said 'comfortable.' Heels are stylish, not comfortable. Obviously flats are the order of the day."

"Quinn, honey, who are talking to?" Judy Fabray asked poking her head into Quinn's bedroom. Her mom's presence startled Quinn who had thought she was home alone. Judy surveyed the scattered clothes all over Quinn's room. "Sweetheart, what's going on?" she asked walking fully into the room.

Quinn looked at her mother in silence for a long moment before huffing out a breath and saying, "I'm going out tonight. I have a date tonight and that's not an invitation to start setting me up with friends of the family again. I just, I'm not sure what to wear."

"Do I know the boy?" Judy asked, adding, "It is a boy, yes?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Yes, mom, it's a boy. Just because I cut my hair short doesn't mean I'm gay, and hanging out with Kira's friends doesn't either."

"Okay, honey. I was just asking. You've just changed so much in the last month or so, it seemed like a possibility. With first cutting your hair and then dying it and your sudden change in style, you're your interest in visiting Christie and Kira, I thought maybe you were trying to tell me something without actually telling me. I thought maybe you knew about Kira already and… I'm getting off topic. Your date is a boy. Do I know him?"

"I don't know, Mom, probably not. He a guy from school, from Glee Club."

"Does he have a name?" Judy asked.

"Arthur John Abrams, the Third," Quinn said, hoping his full, formal name would be enough earn her mother's okay so she didn't have to get into details. When her mother went to ask something else Quinn cut her off with a wave of her hand. "Before you ask, this is our first date, so whatever you were about to ask, odds are I don't have an answer for you, yet. So can I please just go out with him before we do all of this?"

"Sure, sweetheart. Can I just say that this boy must be pretty special if you're this worried about the date? I don't think I've ever seen you so worked up about what to wear," Judy said looking around the room. "Speaking of which, if you're wearing jeans like you usually do these days, you should wear this." She picked up a white silk peasant top that Quinn had casually flung aside earlier. "It's cute, it shows a little skin without being trampy, and it's loose fit so you can move in it, in case he takes you dancing."

Quinn smiled and accepted the shirt from her. "Thanks, Mom," she said. "Crisis averted."

"Quinn, honey," Judy said, "I may not have much to offer in the way of relationship advice, because… obviously, but almost 25 years of being a Fabray woman means I can always help you look your best." Judy smiled as she finished. Quinn smiled in reply. "And your initial assessment was right, if you're not sure what the date entails, flats are they way to go, but there's no rule that says you can't take a pair of heels with you in your bag and change into them if the opportunity presents itself."

At this, Quinn went from smiling to beaming, "Mom, you're a genius."

Judy smiled back at her daughter. "Glad to be of service."

"So when will you be back from your trip?" Quinn asked. She knew the answer but felt like she should show some interest in her mother since she was being so helpful today.

"Late Sunday. Do you have enough money for necessities?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm good," Quinn replied. "I guess I should tell you this. I probably should have told you sooner, but I've been going to stay with friends when you're out of town like this. This place can be kind of creepy when I'm by myself."

Judy smiled and said, "That actually make me feel better about leaving you here so often. I always feel guilty about being gone so much. I'm mean, it's my job so I have to go, but I hope you don't resent me being gone all the time."

Quinn shook her head. "Once upon a time I might have, but since I joined Glee and made some actual friends, I realize that my situation could be much worse. My friend Kurt's mom died when he was a little boy and he's got probably the most amazing step-mom anyone could ever ask for but for years he didn't have a mom. Santana's dad works _all _the time. You're only gone three or four days every couple of weeks. Could be worse."

"So by staying with friends, do you mean Santana and Brittany?"

"Some, but this summer it's mostly been this girl Lexi," not strictly speaking a lie, "whom you haven't met but you probably will soon. I swear you'll love her family. They're like the stereotype of a nuclear family. Parents still married and madly in love, three kids, beautiful little house with pictures of the kids all over the walls, family dinners. The only thing missing is a dog."

"Do you wish we had that?" Judy asked.

"A dog, not really. I think we're more cat people, Mom."

"You know what I mean, Quinnie."

"Yeah, I do," she responded, "And I think if they were being honest, anyone would want that, at least on an instinctive level. To be surrounded by people you love that love you in return, who besides the emotionally damaged, wouldn't want that, but I don't want it enough to have Dad back so we're not going to ever be that, and that's okay. We've got each other and that's a lot. It's more than a lot of kids have. We are who we are and I accept that."

"I guess that's healthy, I guess," Judy said, "but kind of sad."

"Maybe," Quinn said, "but don't worry too much. Any time I have any desire for a dose of nuclear family I pretty well have standing invitations at The Joneses and The, uh…Lexi's family. Believe me, I get plenty of that."

"Good," said Judy. She took a deep breath and continued, "Well, I need to be on my way, and you have a date to get ready for. I'm glad we had a chance to talk and I want to hear all about young Mr. Abrams when I get back."

Quinn stood and her mother did likewise and they hugged, like _really _hugged, for the first time in a very long time, "Okay, Mom."

**X X X X X**

At five minutes until 8:00 that night, Quinn rolled into the Abrams driveway to find only one light on in the living room and the driveway empty. She parked the car, bounded up the path to the front door, and rang the doorbell. Almost immediately Artie yanked the front door open and smiled at Quinn. "Cardinal mistake, Artie, you answered the door too quickly. You're much too eager, comes off as desperate," Quinn said teasingly.

"Well, if that was desperate, what is this going to look like?" Artie asked retrieving a bouquet of purple, orange, and yellow wildflowers off of the table next to the door. He offered them to Quinn who was already smiling brightly. "You look amazing tonight, Quinn, as always."

Quinn accepted the flowers pulling them up to her nose to take in their scent. After she exhaled, she exclaimed, "These are beautiful. I love all the color. What made you think to get wildflowers?"

"I don't know, I guess I just figured you've gotten a lot of flowers in your time as Queen Quinn, and most guys go with red roses. I wanted to do something different. That's actually like the theme of tonight, the most awesomely different date you've ever been on," Artie replied.

"Well, so far, so good. Radically different flowers, oddly late start time."

Artie chuckled, "Yeah, sorry about that, but several aspects of the evening's events required it to be dark outside and it's summer so it doesn't get dark until late, so if we leave soon it should be about dark when we get there. There's a vase on the kitchen table if you want to leave the flowers here since you're coming back here after, or you can bring them with, whatever you like."

"I'll leave them so they don't start to wilt," Quinn said, "Though I'll definitely take a picture of them to keep with me though."

"Okay, I need to grab the wide wheels for my chair," Artie said. "Come on in. I'll be just a second."

"Wide wheels," Quinn questioned as she walked through the family room into the kitchen, "That would seem to indicate that we're going somewhere off-road."

"You can chase all the clues you want, Woman," Artie said affecting his gangster tone. "I ain't tellin you nothing." He opened a closet and began retrieving the needed parts for his chair.

Quinn walked back into the family room and said, "Then how are we getting there? I mean, I know there are cars with hand controls and all, but you don't have one and you don't have your license, so that pretty means that I'm driving. How are getting there if you don't tell me where we are going?"

Artie didn't respond. Instead he finished loading the wheels into a bag then reached into another pocket of the bag and pulled out a GPS navigation system, turned it on, and pushed a button. It said, "Please proceed to highlighted route."

"My dad let me borrow it. The route is already programmed in. All you have to do is drive."

"You just think of everything don't you?" Quinn said.

"Yes, now part of the night is time sensitive so let's roll," Artie said pushing himself towards the door with his bag on his lap. Quinn caught up with him taking the bag and slung it over her shoulder without a word. Artie loaded himself into the car and set up the GPS on the dashboard while Quinn stowed the chair. They set off on the road, Quinn following the navigation system's route. They chatted intermittently mostly Quinn trying to work out details of the date and Artie shutting her down. They were about ten minutes out of Lima when the GPS had them turn down a dirt road into a forest.

"I hope we aren't going hiking because I didn't bring boots," Quinn said.

Artie just snorted and said, "Exactly how would I go hiking? It's just up here." Sure enough just after just another minute driving they came to a fairly large clearing with a pretty white gazebo at the center of it. There also appeared to be a pair of lounge chairs set up facing away from them on the opposite side of the gazebo. They unloaded from the car, Quinn assisting Artie in changing out the wheels on his chair and as they made their way up to the gazebo, Quinn could see the there was a table in it… a table set for two.

"I know it being dark is what you were going for, but it's like _really _dark in here," Quinn said as she walked into the small structure. Artie rolled around the table and flipped a switch. Hundreds, possibly thousands of white twinkle lights flipped on, not just in the gazebo but in the trees all around the clearing. What was a kind of nice little place suddenly felt like some kind of magical dreamscape.

Artie quickly retrieved a portable iPod docking station out of his seemingly endless bag and turned on some soft instrumental music. He then turned to the only chair at the table and pulled it out for Quinn then extended a hand to her and said, "Your chair, my lady." Quinn, who hadn't moved or spoken since Artie turned on the lights, finally awoke from her stupor. She lifted the hem of an imaginary skirt and curtsied at Artie's chivalry. She took his hand as he guided her to her seat and he pushed it back in. Then rather than sit across the fairly big, round table, he sat perpendicular to her on her right, leaving them both within arm's reach of each other. He had to rearrange the table slightly as it was set up for them to sit on opposite side of the table. He dragged one of the two covered dishes in front of him. He then grabbed the lids to both dishes, looked at Quinn, and said, "For your consideration tonight, the world famous Abrams family recipe Four Cheese Manicotti." He removed the lids with a flourish and set them quickly and quietly on the ground beside him.

Quinn, still in shock from everything else, looked at the amazing looking dish in front of her and began to laugh. Artie looked confused but before he could say anything, Quinn silenced herself and tried to speak, "Artie… I… I… I have no words. There _are_ no words. I am completely blown away. This is amazing, did you do this?"

Artie smiled, "Yeah. This was actually my third swing at making it. Attempt number one was not remotely edible. Number two was decent. I hoping number three is a real winner."

"Well, it looks amazing. I love manicotti. Can I?" she asked indicating the plate with her fork.

"It ain't decorative, Woman, that's what you're supposed to do with it," he said taking his own fork in hand. Quinn chuckled and they both dug in. Artie watched Quinn carefully as she took her first bite and did a mental happy dance when Quinn's eyes rolled back in her head and she sighed contentedly while slowly chewing her bite.

When she finished her bite, Quinn said, "This is… maybe the best thing I've ever tasted. How are you so good at everything?"

"Thanks," Artie replied, "I'm glad you like it. And as for the voluminous awesomeness within this slight build, well it's a gift and a curse, really. I sometimes find it hard to wheel myself around because of the awesome weighing me down."

Quinn laughed at Artie's reply then said, "So what is this place? How did you even know about this? Did you do all of this? I mean, not you personally. Obviously, you'd have a little trouble getting all those lights into the trees," Quinn said as she gazed out still with wonder in her eyes at her surroundings, "but did you arrange all of this?"

"Would that I could take all of the credit," Artie replied. "This land belongs to my parents, all the way back out to the highway. Dad bought it years and years ago at a government auction, got it at pennies on the dollar. According to him, the gazebo and this clearing were already here, so who knows who built it. It was supposed to be for their tenth anniversary, Dad was going to bring Mom out here and show her the land and he was going to build a cabin out here somewhere and we would have used it for little getaways. We'd have come up here on three day weekends and during the summer, maybe, go for walks in the woods, maybe hunt or whatever."

"So what happened? Why didn't he ever build your cabin?"

"The accident happened," Artie said flatly. "The hospital bills, physical therapy, the cost to refit the house with wider doors and turn the front stoop into a ramp. That was a lot of money going out, didn't really leave much for a cabin. It wasn't long after that Mom got pregnant with Alexis, Adam never really seemed at all interested in hunting or hiking or anything that a cabin would facilitate and I really couldn't even if I wanted to, so the idea just kind of fell by the wayside."

"So then the decorations?" Quinn prompted.

"Mom carried a lot of guilt about the accident even though it wasn't remotely her fault. She was depressed a lot, so Dad got a bunch of Christmas lights and decorated the gazebo and brought them out here for dinner. The lights in the trees came later, and they spend their anniversary out here every year. Mom loves it."

Quinn's face fell at this. "Should we be out here, then? I mean, if this is their special place or whatever… I suddenly feel like I'm intruding."

"Quinn, when I first started dating my dad said that if I ever meet someone really special, I should bring them out here on one of our dates," Artie said with a slight smile.

Quinn blushed and looked down at her food, "And I'm somebody special?" Artie just smiled and nodded his mouth full of food. Quinn contemplated this for a minute before looking back at him hitching an eyebrow at him, "Not to sound jealous or suspicious, but have you ever brought any other 'special' girls out here?"

Artie shook his head as he swallowed his bite. "I'll be honest and say that I had wanted to bring Brittany out here but the weather never allowed it. With Tina, I was too busy being an aloof jerk to ever think about doing something like this for her. So you're the first, if only by chance." Quinn smiled once again. "The night isn't over Quinn, in fact it's barely started, but I just want to put this out there. I know you're still working on you and I want you to do that, but I also want us to be official. I want to be your boyfriend because, you know, I like you… a lot and I'm pretty sure you like me, and I want to do these kinds of things for you and make you feel like a beautiful princess. And you don't have to answer right now or even at all tonight. I know you need to think about things, consider possibilities and whatnot. I respect that. I don't want to pressure you into anything you don't want." Artie reached over and took Quinn's left hand in his right giving it a gentle squeeze as he held them up. "Just know that _this_ is what I want."

"Thank you, Artie. For this night, which is already so amazingly special, and I do kind of feel like a beautiful princess, and for being so incredibly patient with me and my hang ups. I promise to think hard about it." As Quinn spoke another car pulled up behind Quinn's and shut off. Quinn looked up at it confused and said, "Do you think they're lost?"

"Nope," said Artie confidently, "they're right where they are supposed to be and pretty much right on time." Artie let go of Quinn's hand and backed himself away from the table toward the iPod perched on the gazebo railing. The device fell silent as Artie fiddled with the dials. He reached for Quinn's hand once more and said, "Come on, it's time for surprise number two." Quinn took his hand and stood up, and Artie led them back out of the gazebo as Mike, Puck, and Sam piled out of Mike's car.

When Quinn saw them she said quietly to Artie, sarcastically, "What, you couldn't get _all _of my ex's to join us on our date?"

"Sorry, I needed backing vocals and this is my band. Hey guys, thanks for coming." There was a round of high fives and handshakes amongst the boys. "You guys ready?" Artie asked.

"When you are, dude," Mike said. Artie dug the remote to the docking station out of his shirt pocket and pressed play and presently it began playing soft slow accordion music that Quinn seemed to recognize almost immediately. A big beaming smile spread across her face before anyone even sang a single note.

**Artie**: Oh this is the night  
>It's a beautiful night<br>And we call it Bella Notte

**Puck**: Look at the skies  
>They have stars in their eyes<br>On this lovely Bella Notte

**Sam**: Side by side with your love one  
>You'll find enchantment here<p>

**Artie**: The night will weave its magic spell  
>Sam: When the one you love is near <p>

**All**: Ooooooooooh

This is the night and heavens are right  
>On this lovely Bella Notte <p>

The music died out at this point, but the boys sang on acapella. Artie sang the lead, naturally with the others variously humming and singing along softly.

This is the night, it's a beautiful night  
>And they call it Bella Notte<p>

Look at the skies  
>They have stars in their eyes<br>On this lovely Belle Notte

Side by side with your loved one  
>You'll find enchantment here <p>

The night will weave its magic spell  
>When the one you love is near<p>

Oh this is the night and the heavens are right  
>On this lovely Bella Notte<p>

By the time the song was over, Quinn was in tears and smiling bigger than any of the boys had ever seen her before. She climbed into Artie's lap and kissed him hard. The nearby pair of suddenly very uncomfortable ex's quickly averted their gazes, while Mike smiled at his friend seemingly getting his girl. Artie, without breaking the kiss or even so much as turning his head their direction raised a hand to wave goodbye to his friends, none of whom needed any extra prompting to leave them to their make out session. Within a minute they were back in Mike's car and backing out of the clearing.

A few minutes of very intense making out later, Quinn finally broke the kiss. "Artie, this is the most incredible romantic thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you so much. This is, by far, the best first date ever."

Artie smirked at the fact that he'd fulfilled one of his two goals for the night. He'd wait on the second if had to. "The night's not over yet."

"Ah, yes," Quinn said. "The lounge chairs. Are we stargazing this evening? That's my best guess."

"You're close. There's going to be a meteor shower visible in that direction in about twenty minutes. I was hoping you'd like to watch it with me."

Quinn cocked an eyebrow, "A meteor shower? That sounds kind of… oddly cool. I think I'd like that." Artie wordlessly wheeled the pair of them over to the lounge chairs. Quinn stood up and Artie tentatively reached to transfer himself onto one of them. When it started to tip over, Quinn put a foot on the opposite side to hold the chair in place while Artie moved over. When he was settled, Quinn dragged her chair right up against Artie's and laid down on it. Quinn reached over and took Artie's hand in hers and said, "Artie, I know I've already said this but thank you so much for tonight. This is seriously one of the best nights of my life."

"You're very welcome, Quinn," he replied. "To be honest with you that was my intended goal for the night, to give you the best first date you've ever had."

"Well, you've succeeded admirably. You have blown any and all expectations I might have had completely out of the water."

"I'm glad," Artie said.

"Artie," Quinn said after a moment of peaceful silence, "I want to tell you what I'm thinking about the whole 'boyfriend/girlfriend' situation, so you can understand me better and, who knows, maybe it will help me to overcome my reservations about the whole thing."

"I'm all ears."

"Well, the biggest mental obstacle is that I don't want to hurt you. I still have a very clear mental image of you that first day in the coffee shop, that broken shell of the cheerful, optimistic guy that I know and have come to care about greatly, and if I were ever to cause you to become that again either through action or inaction, I don't think I could live with myself. Tangential to that point, and I'm aware how selfish this is, but you're my best friend, Artie. I don't want to lose that, and I don't want to screw it up and drive you away by hurting you."

"You're not going to lose me as your best friend, Quinn. I mean, realistically we've been more than _just _friends for a while now, but whatever else we are or may become, we _are_ friends. I don't want to change that, I just want to add to it. Secondly, I'm not hugely eager to be hurt like I've been hurt before, but I think you are worth the risk."

"Are you sure about that? I'd hesitate to point out," Quinn said, "that you've had two girlfriends, both of whom have cheated on you, and I've had two boyfriends both of whom I've cheated on. I don't know about you but to me that sounds like a recipe for heartache and hurt."

"You aren't that girl anymore, Quinn, and I know that because you told me that first day in the coffee shop and you've shown me every day since then and never more than you've shown me tonight. The old Quinn Fabray wouldn't be interested in watching a meteor shower, the old Quinn Fabray wouldn't have openly wept at a Disney song, and truthfully the old Quinn Fabray wouldn't have ever agreed to this date in the first place." Quinn tensed at this truth, which he felt through their linked hands. Artie rubbed his thumb over hers, trying to be soothing. "It's okay, Quinn, because you are _not _that girl anymore. And as for me, Tina kissed Mike because I pushed her away, plain and simple. It took me a while to understand that, but I get it now, that will never happen between us. Brittany cheated because her best friend wanted in her pants and managed to convince her that it was okay. Is your best friend secretly in love with you? Oh, that's right I'm your best friend, so that's not going to happen either."

Quinn couldn't help but smile at his confidence, and just as he finished, a small light streaked across the sky. The pair sat in silence for the next several minutes as bigger and smaller streaks litter the skyline. Quinn looked over to Artie who was looking very intently up. "Artie, can you ask me again? Or really ask me for the first time since you never actually asked."

Artie smile brightly, "Are you sure?"

"I still have concerns and we'll talk about them more, later, but you've done so much to make me feel reassured about us, I want to this for us, so hurry up and ask before I rethink things and chicken out."

"Quinn Fabray, will you be my girlfriend?" Artie spat out very quickly, as per her request.

"Yes," Quinn said almost as quickly, and then they weren't watching the meteor shower anymore.

**A/N: One of the earliest ideas I had for this story was of that quartet singing Bella Notte since their version in the S2 finale was just so bloody killer. It deserves to be more than some fantasy of Rachel's. The last half of this story hasn't been proofed much at all, so please pardon the typos and errors. I'll punch them up on my lunch break tomorrow.**


	13. A Simple Inquiry

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: Two updates in two days? It's crazy right? My second attempt at something a little stylized, hope everyone likes it.**

**Chapter 13**

**A Simple Inquiry**

To: qfabray[at]wmhs. edu

From: mfiggins[at]wmhs. edu

Subject: Re: School Newspaper

Ms Fabray,

While it is inspiring that a student is invested in the re-establishing the journalistic integrity of the once proud school newspaper, I'm afraid there are precious few resources I can commit to such an endeavor at this point for the forthcoming school year. Coach Sylvester's turn at being editor of the paper last year was entirely self-financed. The school has no money for printing costs, all the cameras belong to the Yearbook Club, not the school so you would have to use them at their leisure, and the only available room with the necessary computers is the library. If you can find a way to work with these limitations you'll need to find a faculty member to serve as editor. Staff co-ordination is done through Miss Pillsbury. I wish you well in this endeavor.

Sincerely,

Principal Figgins

**X X X X X**

To: epillsbury[at]wmhs. edu

From: qfabray[at]wmhs. edu

Subject: School Newspaper

Miss Pillsbury,

I hope your summer is going well. I don't know if Principal Figgins has spoken with you or not but I'm writing you today because I was looking into the logistics of restarting the school's newspaper, in earnest this time, not the tabloid that Coach Sylvester ran last year. I've recently developed an interest in photography and was looking for an outlet for it. I've already joined the Yearbook Club, but that's kind of intermittent. I was hoping for something a little more consistent. Principal Figgins has said that we have to have a staff member to serve as editor and that you do staff co-ordination. I'd just ask Mr. Shue but he's already got Spanish Club and Glee Club, so I'm certain he has his hands full. If you could ask around and have anyone interested get in touch with me, I would be greatly appreciative. I'm already beating the bushes for other students to join.

Thanks,

Quinn Fabray

**X X X X X**

**To Santana: I'm trying to get the school paper restarted, you should be a reporter.**

**From Santana: Why the fuck would I do that?**

**To Santana: Looks good for college, diverse interests, plus lets you do what you do best?**

**From Santana: And what's that?**

**To Santana: Be a self-righteous, nosey, intrusive bitch**

**From Santana: Fuck you, Q!**

**From Santana: I'll think about it.**

**To Kurt: Starting up the school newspaper. Need someone to write about fashion. Looks good on college application, could be fun.**

**From Kurt: You had me at fashion.**

**To Kurt: Great. I'll give you details when I know them.**

**From Kurt: My first article will be done within the hour.**

**To Mercedes: We're starting up the school newspaper again. You and Tina could write a gossip column.**

**To Tina: We're starting up the school newspaper again. You and Cedes could write a gossip column.**

**From Tina: O _ O You are brilliant beyond words, Quinn.**

**From Mercedes: I'm so in.**

**To Sam: The school paper needs a sports reporter. No one knows more about sports than you. Not even those guys on ESPN. Help us Sammy-Wan Kenobi, you're our only hope.**

**From Sam: God, I'd luv 2 but bt school work football Glee n other things, idk how much free time ill have.**

**To Sam: Other things named Mercedes? Mom said to have your mom call her, don't know what it's about.**

**From Sam: K, will do. U no about me and Cedes? U cool w/ it?**

**To Sam: You cool with Artie and me?**

**From Sam: I think so. Artie's a good guy.**

**To Sam: The best and Cedes is awesome. Glad you're happy together. I haven't told anyone btw.**

**From Sam: Thx. Were just keeping quiet 4 now seein how it goes by school well b open.**

To: Rachel Berry

From: Quinn Fabray

Subject: School Newspaper

Hey Rachel, I know I had you cell number at one point but I think I deleted it after the last and final Finn debacle. I hope you are as diligent in your social networking as you are at seemingly everything else and check your Facebook regularly. I mean I know this was how I got a hold of you for our big heart to heart, but that could have just been a fluke. It's odd really, I've made you such a big part of my life the last couple years and yet I don't really know you.

Anyway, I'm getting myself off topic. I am endeavoring to get our school's newspaper restarted, a real newspaper this time with journalistic ethics and everything. I thought maybe you'd be interested in working on it with us. I've already go Kurt signed up on fashion, Mercedes and Tina on society. Maybe you would want to do something on the local arts. Is there a local arts scene outside of Glee Club? If you have other ideas, I'd be glad to hear them.

Also, you're seemingly the only one that knows how to get in contact with Sunshine. Is she on Facebook? I thought it would be interesting if she wanted to write about her experiences as foreign exchange student/immigrant. That may be too personal for her, I don't know. It's entirely fine if she doesn't want to do it, but could you run it by her for me please?

Hope things are going well for you and I hope to hear back from you soon.

-Q

**X X X X X**

To: qfabray[at]wmhs. edu

From: srunyon[at]wmhs. edu

Subject: School Paper

Hey Quinn, Emma Pillsbury was asking around about a faculty editor for the school newspaper and I had an alternate idea I thought I'd run by you. I don't know if you are aware or not but newspapers are largely a dying medium. The advent of the internet and the 24 hour news channel has put them desperately behind the curve in the Information Age, and I know how biased this probably sounds coming from the Technology and Computer Sciences teacher but you can do the research for yourself.

I know there's no money in the school budget for printing costs of a newspaper but what the school does have is bandwidth and a lot of it. Thanks to a complete lack of understanding of the measurements by politicians, the school is allocated ten gigabytes of bandwidth a month and it uses somewhere in the neighborhood of one, so my alternative suggestion is rather than restarting the newspaper and all the baggage that comes with it, we start up a school-sponsored student-run news website. I've already run the idea past Figgins and he's given us the go ahead, I've already talked to a couple of my Tech Club kids about helping me webmaster the site and they're already working on layout ideas, and because it's Internet based we wouldn't even need to wait until school begins to go live with it. Let me know what you think and get back to me. Miss Pillsbury has said that you were recruiting already. Do you have anyone recruited yet? Send me a friend request on Facebook, and we can discuss this at length.

Hope to hear from you soon,

Serena Runyon

**X X X X X**

**Quinn Fabray** is now friends with **Serena Runyon**

Quinn: Miss Runyon thank you so much for doing this. I love the website idea.

Serena: You're welcome. It's an idea I've been trying to get off the ground since I got to McKinley a couple of years ago. There just hasn't been much support for it. What made you want to start the paper back up?

Quinn: I have a burgeoning interest in photography and I was looking for an outlet. I'm in Yearbook but they don't meet very often. I thought a newspaper would provide me with an opportunity see if I'm any good.

Serena: Do you have anything I can look? Are they in your pictures?

Quinn: I've got a ton of pictures posted but they're mostly just of my friends and I. I've got some that I was actually trying to compose a shot. I'll go post them.

Serena: Okay. So did you have any luck recruiting?

Quinn: Yeah, a little. I've got Kurt Hummel for Fashion.

Serena: Outstanding.

Quinn: I know, right? I've got Mercedes Jones and Tina Cohen-Chang for Society and Sam Evans wants to do Sports but he doesn't know if he'll have time, he's got a lot going on in his life right now

Serena: By Society you mean a gossip column, right?

Quinn: Yeah, basically, is that okay?

Serena: Yes, it's fine. Just make sure they understand that it won't be place for airing petty grievances or hurting people.

Quinn: Of course. I'm still waiting to hear back from a few other people.

Serena: Do you know Haaroon Doorani?

Quinn: The Middle Eastern freshman kid who wears the turban and the tunic?

Serena: Sophomore now, but yeah, his parents are pretty strict. He's one of the kids I have helping with the webmastering. He wants to write for Technology. You know, review computers and cell phones, video games, things like that.

Quinn: Sounds good to me.

Serena: Okay, well keep recruiting and keep me in the loop. Haaroon said he should have some sample web designs ready for us to look at in the next day or so. I need to run right now. 3035448177 is my cell number if you need.

Quinn: Okay, thanks. I'll text you so you'll have my number.

Serena: Okay, later, Quinn.

Quinn: Later Miss Runyon.

**X X X X X**

**From 4197728113: Quinn, it's Rachel. I would be thrilled to contribute to your newspaper. Thank you for considering me. If I stick strictly to the arts, my contributions will be scattershot as the local arts scene is rather sparse, but I would be more than happy to contribute to the paper under any topic though I will admit a certain gap in understanding of sports. I have passed along your thoughts to Sunshine and I sent the two of you a Friend Suggestion on Facebook, however if you actually want to follow her updates you should bookmark Google Translate or similar as her Facebook is all in her native Tagalog.**

**To Rachel: Thanks. I have you saved, never to be deleted again. I sent out a mass text earlier. The paper is now going to be a website. It shouldn't be any different on your end, except that we should be up and running in a couple of days rather than a month from now. Oh and Miss Runyon is our Editor and Webmaster.**

**From Rachel: Excellent. I am very excited about this. Can I write an editorial eviscerating Governor Kasich? **

**To Rachel: Can we stick to school and school-related matters, at least for now?**

**From Rachel: He's trying to strip public school teachers of their union rights. That's school related.**

**To Rachel: Fine. Limit it to that topic only, though. If the first item the school paper runs is an attack on the governor, I suspect we will find ourselves without a website to post on.**

**From Rachel: That's censorship! I have a First Amendment right to Free Speech and a Free Press!**

**To Miss Runyon: I may have opened Pandora's Box. Rachel Berry wants to write an op-ed about Governor Kasich and the pending legislation about public unions. I told her to write it but stay on topic, and now she's screaming censorship.**

**From Miss Runyon: Give me her number.**

**To Santana: So what do you think?**

**From Santana: I think you're interrupting me talking to my girl. What do you want?**

**To Santana: What do you think about working on the website?**

**From Santana: Jesus Q! It's been like a couple hours. I said I'd think about it.**

**To Santana: Okay, I just thought Miss Runyon's involvement might have swayed you.**

**From Santana: Why the fuck would that matter?**

**To Santana: A beautiful, smart, successful, Latina woman who afaik isn't a rampaging alcoholic? Can't think of a reason you'd want to be around someone like that?**

**From Santana: I don't need a fucking mommy, Q!**

**To Santana: I know that, but it might not hurt to have a role model.**

**From Santana: Fuck you!**

**From Santana: Fine, when do we start?**

**To Santana: The site will be up in a couple days. Rachel and Kurt are already working on articles.**

**From Santana: Fuck that shit! I can't be mean to Berry anymore, then I can at least one-up her. You'll have something in the damn morning.**

**From Rachel: Quinn, I wish to apologize for my earlier behavior. Miss Runyon explained some things to me that I did not fully understand about the nature of school newspapers and by extension school news websites. If you'll still have it, I'll write the op-ed on public union rights and have it to you in the next day or so.**

**To Rachel: I accept your apology, but Miss Runyon is the editor. Submit it to her, not me.**

**From Rachel: Very well. And thank you.**

**X X X X X**

To: kjackson[at]wmhs. edu

From: qfabray[at]wmhs. edu

Hey Katie, you use to say all the time that you wanted to be something more than just a cheerleader. I know you get good English grades. Have you ever thought being a writer? We're starting up a school news website… like a news paper but on the internet where people might actually read it, and we need reporters. If you're interested, let me know. You can call or text me if you still have my number. Let me know, -Q

**From Katie: Okay, so this is kind of embarrassing, but my name isn't Katie. It's Kirby. Coach Sylvester said that no Cheerio could be named after a corpulent video game character. I tried to explain that I was named after an artist. That only seemed to make things worse. She renamed me Katie and because that woman frightens me, I didn't fight her. I'd love to be on the news team. What do I need to do?**

**To Kirby: LOL! No worries. I know as well as anyone the wrath of Sue Sylvester. Just send an e-mail to Miss Runyon to let her know you're on board. She'll tell you what to do from there.**

**From Kirby: Cool. Did you really dye your hair pink?**

**To Kirby: I did.**

**From Kirby: That sounds awesome, so are you for sure not going out for Cheerios this year?**

**To Kirby: Yeah, I'm sure.**

**From Kirby: Okay, then, I guess I'll see you whenever the news team meets.**

**To Kirby: Unless you wanted to join the Glee Club this year…**

**X X X X X**

Quinn's phone rang for what she thought was about the ten thousandth time that day and she groaned in response. When she'd made a simple inquiry to Principal Figgins about restarting the school paper this morning, she'd half expected to be ignored or turned down flat. Failing that, she'd expected it to take weeks to get set up, not one freaking day. Even though everything had been done through text message and e-mail and Facebook, she was still tired of being on the phone. She just wanted to just lay there on her bed and not communicate with anyone else for the remainder of the night… at least until her mom got home, and that inevitable conversation.

She was going to let the call go to voice mail but then she looked at the caller ID and, of course, it was Artie, the only person she would answer for right now. She picked up and then switched on the speakerphone. "Hey, Artie," she said trying and failing to sound upbeat.

"You sound tired," he replied.

"Exhausted," she replied. They were both quiet for a moment before Quinn continued, "My mom wants to meet you."

"Oh yeah?" Artie asked.

"Well, she will when she gets home in a little bit and I tell her all about the most amazingly romantic date I've ever been on," Quinn clarified.

Artie simply replied, "Okay."

"I just want to prepare you. You know, Old Quinn was a horrible judgmental bitch, right?"

Artie somewhat reluctantly said, "Um, yeah."

Quinn reassured him, "It's fine, Artie. I was a huge bitch, but as you so eloquently stated the other day, I'm not that girl anymore. I bring it up only because Old Quinn learned how to be a bitch by watching Old Judy, and she's trying to be New Judy, too, but she can slip back into Old Judy really easily, and I'm worried what she's going to say when I tell her that I'm dating a guy in a wheelchair."

"Does it bother you?" Artie asked.

"The chair or the fact that my mother might say something horrible?"

"The chair," he clarified.

"No, Artie," Quinn said with certainty, "It's a part of who you are, and as I get to know you and get to know your family, I find out that it's not even that _big_ a part of who you are. You are more or less the same person you were before the accident which is thoroughly amazing, if I may say. If the biggest negative thing about you is that you take a little longer to get in and out of the car than everyone else, then I'd say that's orders of magnitude better than being dumber than a bag of hammers like my last boyfriend. At least during all that extra loading and unloading time, I can talk to you and have you actually understand me without my needing to explain myself."

"Then you have nothing to worry about," Artie said. "Either your mother will love me like everyone does or she'll freak out and maybe say something horrible, but I've heard it all before, so who cares? It's not going to change how I feel about you. You're not Old Judy any more that you are Old Quinn, I know that."

Quinn smiled into her pillow and said, "How did I get so lucky? It can't be just by chance that the girl who needs a mountain of understanding to overcome her past just so happens to hook up with the most understanding guy in the whole world, can it?"

"Are you implying that we were fated to be together, then?" he asked.

"Maybe."


	14. Dinner With Judy

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: A thousand profuse apologies for the delay in publishing. I made a mad dash for the finish line on my other story and have now finished it, then there was the matter of my daughter's birthday that took up a great deal of my time and attention, and I was sort of struggling with this chapter. Part of it retreads a lot of what has come before which was necessary to set up the rest of the chapter but I was trying very hard to make it feel like it wasn't entirely redundant. Updates should be much more punctual now that I'm just working on one story. As always thanks to those that review, and now on with the show…**

**Chapter 14**

**Dinner With Judy**

"Are you sure you don't want a few days to prepare yourself for dinner with my mother?" Quinn asked nervously. Quinn was dreading this meeting. Despite what Artie had said last night on the phone she was still concerned that her mother would say something horrible and drive him off or what was possibly worse, that she'd be nice to him to his face and say something terrible to her afterwards and then she'd be the one stuck choosing to deal with her being two-faced whenever he was around or making excuses for them to never be at her house. Any of those three outcomes would be a mountain of stress on a brand new relationship, and for as reluctant as Quinn had been to label them as such, now that they had she was determined to make them work.

"I think what you mean to ask," Artie said, "is don't I want to give you a few days to stress yourself out about things that are entirely beyond your control, and the answer is, of course, no. You need to relax, Quinn. I am an incredibly charming guy… especially in comparison to Finn."

Quinn suddenly broke out laughing so loud that Artie had to hold the phone away from his ear. "Oh my God, right?" she cackled.

"What's so funny, Quinn?"

Quinn took a deep breath to calm herself slightly, or at least to get her laughing fit under control. "I'm sorry. I've just been so stressed about this and then I suddenly remembered the last time I brought a boy home for dinner with my family was when Finn got me kicked out, and how could tonight possibly go any worse than that?"

"So you're laughing about the night you got thrown out of your house pregnant?" Artie asked.

"No, I don't think that will ever be funny. I'm laughing at myself for being so stupid for stressing over this when I shouldn't be. Mom's not going to throw me out or stop speaking to me for dating a guy in a wheelchair. Next to that, I'm pretty sure I can handle anything."

"Good attitude," Artie said.

"Just don't start singing at the dinner table. She might have a stroke or a panic attack," Quinn said.

"Did he really sing 'You're Having My Baby'?" Artie asked.

"He really did," Quinn confirmed.

"What did you ever see in him?" Artie asked teasingly.

"A Prom King," Quinn said with a bit of shame in her voice.

"Hey," Artie said, "don't do that. Don't drown yourself in guilt. That was Old Quinn. You aren't her anymore." Quinn sighed into the phone. "Talk to me, woman," Artie said.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"How do you read my mind like that?"

"I can't read your mind, but I know that for all the work you've done on finding your new self, you still carry a lot of guilt over the things that Old Quinn did, and using that guilt to spur you on and make yourself a better person is good, but don't let the guilt get the best of you, because you aren't that person anymore. You _are _a better person," Artie reassured her.

Artie heard Quinn sniff. "Thank you, Artie. You always know just what to say."

"I keep trying to tell you," Artie said, "I'm a charming guy."

Quinn sighed, wistfully this time, "Yes, you are. Sadly, my prince, I have to let you go. I have to go and make myself beautiful for you now."

"Whatever, woman, you're beautiful when you roll out of bed in the morning, I know, I've seen you. Also, prince?"

"Yeah, you know, charming, prince, Prince Charming. That's you."

Artie smiled, "I like it. Now I have to come up with a pet name for you."

"Okay," Quinn said dismissively, "you get to work on that. I'm going to hit the shower."

"Mmmm, Quinn in the shower," said Artie.

"Oh my God, hanging up now. Bye," Quinn responded.

"Bye, Quinn."

**X X X X X**

While Artie had done a great deal to relieve her stress over the situation, Quinn was still extremely curious about how the night was going to play out. Her mom was genuinely trying to be New Judy ever since she had moved back in over a year ago, but it was obviously an effort for her. Quinn supposed it was too many years as Old Judy. It had taken Quinn months to fully break out of her Old Quinn ways and she'd only been Old Quinn for a little less than three years. Her mom had been Old Judy for more than two decades. The previous night's conversation about their first official date had gone well enough...

_ "Quinn, honey, I'm home!" Judy called as she walked into the house. Quinn could hear her trudging up the stairs with heavy bags in hand. Quinn went to assist meeting her mom at the top of the stairs, taking one bag wordlessly._

_ "How was your trip?" Quinn asked._

_ "Endless, and boring, all work stuff. How was your weekend?" Judy switched to the topic of her interest. Quinn smiled unconsciously just at the thought of her date with Artie which she knew was the part of her weekend her mom most wanted to know about. "That good, huh?" Judy asked. Quinn blushed and nodded her head. _

_"Have you lost the ability to speak?" Judy asked._

_"No, Mom."_

_"Then tell me about your date. It must have been something to put this big grin on your face."_

_"Where do I even start?" Quinn wondered aloud._

_"You can start with this boy. I believe you said his name is Arthur?"_

_"It is," Quinn replied, "but everyone calls him Artie. Artie Abrams." Quinn felt silly for it but she grinned even wider just thinking about him and saying his name._

_"Okay, Artie. Describe this Artie to me so I have a clear mental picture."_

_"Describe him? Mom, you are aware that this is the 21st century right? I can just show you a picture of him right here on my phone." Quinn tapped on the screen of her phone a couple of times and then turned it around to show her mother a picture of herself and Artie faces side by side._

"_Well, isn't he handsome? I like his eyes; they're very striking. The two of you make a very cute couple. That is to say if you are a couple. I know you kids these days have a dozen classifications for relationships. Are you guys 'seeing each other' or 'just talking' I think was one of them?"_

_Quinn was silently chuckling watching her mother try to navigate the specifics of teenage nomenclature before taking mercy on her, saying, "Artie's my boyfriend. We are a couple, and I agree with you, we are very cute together."_

"_You got him to commit to being your boyfriend after only one date? Good for you, Quinn," Judy said examining the picture again. "Is he… terribly short or just sitting down? Because from here he would appear to be shorter than you."_

"_Actually, he got me to be his girlfriend in one date, we've been…" Quinn huffed as she trailed off. Judy looked at her questioningly but didn't say anything. "Okay, so there's quite a bit I've left out. Artie and I have spent a lot of time together this summer, as friends up until Friday night. My friend Lexi that I told you about staying with, she's Artie's eight year old little sister. I've been spending many nights at his house." Judy moved to interrupt but Quinn quickly added, "His parents are there, they're happy to have me, and I sleep in Lexi's room with her. She's a great kid." Quinn flipped through her phone and brought up a picture of the girl in question._

"_She's adorable, she looks just like her brother," said Judy._

"_Actually, they both look just like their mother," Quinn brought up Amy's image, "but back to your questions. Artie and I started out as friends, great friends, actually, and it just kind of slowly grew into more, but I was reluctant to put a label on it until Friday he just completely swept me off of my feet, after that I couldn't deny him any longer. For your second question, he is sitting down in that picture of us because he's always sitting. Artie's a paraplegic. His legs don't work."_

"_He's in a wheelchair?" Judy asked. Quinn nodded in confirmation. "That must be very hard for him."_

"_I'm sure he struggles with it from time to time, but he's seriously the most optimistic, happy-go-lucky person I've ever met. In the two years that we've been in Glee Club together, I think I've only ever seen it get him down once."_

"_I'd like to meet him," Judy said. "Can you invite him to dinner tomorrow night? If that's not good for him, we can reschedule for sometime this week. Just let me know."_

Her tone after the big reveal of the wheelchair had been fairly inscrutable. Quinn was certain she had no clue where her mother's head was on this topic. Quinn was decidedly less certain on why she was concerned about it except that she wanted her mother to accept Artie, especially since the Abrams family had so readily and fully embraced her. It seemed only fair that he be as welcome in their home as she was in his.

An hour after she got out of the shower Quinn left her mother working in the kitchen to go pick up Artie, and she's amazed at the synchronicity of their relationship already. Neither Quinn nor Artie had said anything about her picking him up or even when, but oddly enough when Quinn showed up at the Abrams house, Artie was just finishing up getting ready. As she waited on him, Alexis regaled her with everything that had happened since the last time she saw Quinn, a little over 48 hours ago.

When they arrived back at the Fabray mansion, Quinn caught her mother staring out the front window at them. As much as she could, Quinn tried to put herself between Artie and her mother, not to block her mother's view but to try to keep Artie from noticing the stares. She'd never known Artie to be self-conscious about the chair but then she'd never seen him around anyone as judgmental as her mother had the potential to be. By the time they were making their way up the front walk, Judy had disappeared from the window, whether to tend to dinner or just to avoid being caught staring who could say. Quinn opened the front door and helped Artie over the threshold. Once they were both inside she said, "Mom, we're here."

As if those words were some kind of magical incantation, Judy rounded the corner into the foyer almost as soon as the sound escaped her daughter's lips. "Welcome home, dear," Judy said.

"Mom," Quinn said, "this is Artie Abrams," she looked at him and smiled, "my boyfriend." He smiled back at her and the seeming ease at her use of the word that she'd been reluctant to apply, but now seemingly embraced wholeheartedly. "Artie," she continued as Artie quickly shed one of his gloves, "this is my mother, Judy Fabray."

Artie quickly offered up his right hand, "A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Fabray."

She took his hand and shook it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, as well, Artie, but please call me Judy. Dinner should be ready just any minute now. What can we get you to drink Artie? We have Diet Coke, tea, milk, and water, of course. I could make coffee, if you like."

"Water's fine, thank you," Artie said.

"Alright, Quinn would you show our guest to the dining room and I'll be right in with beverages?" Quinn did as she was asked. When she ushered Artie into the dining room, she did her best not to think about the last time one of her boyfriends had been in here. This was not that situation… not remotely, and yet Quinn was almost as anxious as she had been that night. Quinn took a deep calming breath and reminded herself that her mother was not her father; in fact her mother wasn't even the same person as her mother had been that night she'd been kicked out. The worst she was likely to get was some passive-aggressive comments that she could happily ignore.

The next few minutes were a flurry of activity with Judy bringing drinks and then a salad and dinner rolls and finally the main course, pepper-crusted chicken with baked asparagus. Quinn and Artie offered to help but Judy insisted that Artie was a guest and that Quinn was to keep their guest company. Dinner conversation was polite. Judy inquired about Artie's parents and he explained about his mother's job at the hotel and his dad's job as a music professor at OSU-Lima. He told her about his little brother and sister. He talked about his love of music and movies. Judy listened to all of it, but both he and Quinn could tell that there was something else on her mind. Eventually, as they were all nearing the end of the meals, Artie said, "Judy, if there's something on your mind, you can ask. I mean, I appreciate your desire to maintain decorum, but if you have questions or concerns about me or my dating Quinn, I'd be happy to address them."

Judy appeared to be fighting her nature whether or not to broach the subject. "Would you… this is alarmingly impertinent of me, and I apologize in advance, but could I ask you to tell me about your… your injury?"

Quinn's eyes went wide at the thought which Artie noticed. He put a hand on hers and spoke, "It's not a problem, Judy. What would you like to know?"

"What type of injury is it?"

"The medical terminology is an L5 Complete. In practical terms, that means that my legs don't work. I still have sensation, though not much muscle control, in my hips, and forgive the impolitic of discussing this at the dinner table, but I have full control of my faculties and…" Artie paused, not sure whether to add the next part considering the history between the two women, "eventually, years from now when I'm ready, I can still have children if I want to" Artie tried to qualify the statement as best he could to make sure it didn't come across like he was eager to have them.

"And your general health?" Judy prompted.

"Really good," Quinn interjected a little too eagerly, feeling like she needed to contribute something to the conversation.

Artie smiled at Quinn's protectiveness and slipped his hand into hers, interlocking their fingers. "Quinn's right. My health is very good. I mean, I get sick like anyone else. I catch cold a couple of times a year, I usually get the flu in the fall, and I have seasonal allergies, nothing serious. If I don't shift my legs often enough, I can get pressure sores that can lead to serious issues if they aren't treated properly, but I do treat them, so they're fine and I don't get them very often anymore. I take my care regimen very seriously. "

"That's very good to hear, Artie," Judy said, visibly relaxing. "I'll explain why I was so concerned about this. In college, I had a friend named Camille who got married Junior Year to man named Douglas. On their honeymoon, they went skiing in Aspen and Douglas had an accident and wound up in a wheelchair and I don't know the specifics of his injury but I know they have children, so his injury must be at least somewhat similar to yours. Afterwards, Camille's whole life became about taking care of Douglas. We almost never saw each other unless I went to their house and even then she spent almost every moment taking care of Douglas. He was seemingly always sick and needed tending to, almost as if he was an invalid. And I try not to say this with any sort of judgment, but I basically lost her as a friend because she ceased to exist as anything other than his caretaker. After getting to know you, Artie, I think you can understand why I wouldn't want that life for Quinn, right?"

"Absolutely," Artie affirmed quickly. "I wouldn't want that for Quinn or for anyone else, either. That's why I always try to be as self-sufficient as possible."

"And he is," Quinn said looking at him, "sometimes frustratingly so." She stuck the tip of her tongue out at him, he smiled at her gentle teasing, and Judy smiled at the adoration for one another in their faces.

"Situations like you describe can and do happen," Artie said, "some people have somewhat deficient immune systems and just get sick all the time. It's possible that Douglas doesn't take care of himself like he should or it's possible that the accident left Camille with an overabundance of guilt and that turned her into a Mother Hen-type. I don't know, but I do know that if Quinn and I work out in the long term, that won't happen to us. I take care of myself specifically so that I don't end up like that. I still don't know what I want to do with my life, but I want to do _something_, not just take up space."

"That's good to hear. Thank you, Artie," Judy said. "Now if you could just explain why my daughter felt the need to dye her hair pink."

"Mom," Quinn huffed in annoyance.

"You know, I'm just teasing dear. Now, I just picked up a carton of Oreo ice cream, would anyone like…" Both of their hands were in the air before Judy could finish asking the question. "Very well, Quinn stay put I'll be right back."

When she was gone, Quinn looked at Artie and said, "I was right. You _are_ Prince Charming."


	15. A Death in the Family

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: Two updates in two days? It's crazy, right? I know.**

**Chapter 15**

**A Death in the Family**

For the first few hours of the day, July 23rd had been a Saturday like any other. Quinn had stayed overnight at the Abrams house as had quickly become routine even when her mother wasn't out of town. Quinn simply adored the loving atmosphere of family breakfast on Pancake Day, and the Abrams Family loved having her around, even the standoffish Adam was starting to come around, though he'd still never admit it. Quinn had heard her phone chime for an incoming text message a couple times during breakfast but been content to ignore it. Then at about 10:30 it actually rang. Someone was calling her. They'd all finished eating so Quinn went in search of the phone somewhere in the family room, but by the time she located the device it had already gone to voicemail. Upon inspection she saw that three text messages and the missed call were all from Brittany. Quinn opened the first text message but before she could read it Brittany was calling her again. Quinn answered, "Hey, Britt, what's going on?"

"You have to come, Quinn," Brittany's voice was ragged and frantic. "I can't help her. She won't stop crying, Quinn. Please say you'll come. I'll be right back, San!" Brittany shouted away from the phone. "Please, Quinn, I don't know what to do." Brittany didn't wait for a response before hanging up.

Quinn went back to the text messages but they were no help. Brittany's text-speak was horrible and if Quinn was reading them correctly they were just more of the same: Santana was crying and Brittany couldn't make her stop. Please come help.

"Everything alright?" Artie inquired as he rolled into the room to find Quinn staring intently at her phone.

"Not sure," she responded as she flipped through her apps, "Apparently Santana's horribly upset about something and Brittany was too distressed to elaborate, so now I'm just try… oh crap!" Quinn said suddenly as stared at her Twitter feed finally figuring out what would have Santana so torn up. "I have to go."

Quinn turned and made for Alexis's room where her bag with her clothes, not to mention her car keys, was located. Artie wheeled after her catching up to her quickly. "Apparently, this not being able to elaborate thing is contagious. What's going on?"

Quinn looked back to him and said, "Amy Winehouse is dead. It's all over Twitter."

"And Santana was a big fan?" Artie asked. He hadn't really meant it as a question. Obviously she was a fan if the singer's death had her that messed up. He just knew that he didn't really know Santana all that well.

"Amy Winehouse is to Santana what Barbara Streisand is to Rachel," Quinn said, "seriously, no exaggeration. She doesn't talk about it, but R&B, Motown, Soul music, that's like Santana's religion."

"Really?" Artie said.

"Yeah, I know she never lets on but she loves it. When they did 'River Deep, Mountain High' last year, it was, like seriously, one of the greatest days of Santana's life, and she loved Amy above and beyond all of them. I think the only way I could imagine her being more upset is if it were _Brittany_ who had died, so I've got to go."

"Of course. I understand. I just... I want to go with you," Artie said as they resumed moving towards Alexis's bedroom.

"Artie, I appreciate the offer," Quinn said, "but with everything between the two of you, I don't really think you're going to be able to help."

"Okay," he said. Quinn stepped inside the very yellow bedroom and began changing. Artie made his way back into the family room where his mother was waiting on him. He was looking a little dejected, a fact which was not lost on Amy.

"Everything okay?" She asked.

"Amy Winehouse died," he replied evenly.

"Yeah, I heard that part. Is everything okay between you two?" She clarified.

"Oh," Artie dropped his head when he realized that his ever insightful mother was onto him, yet again, "yeah, I just think I could be of use but Quinn thinks because of all the Brittany Drama that Santana won't be receptive to my presence."

"And you think you can be helpful because of..."

"Yeah," he cut her off as he heard Quinn coming back down the hall.

She returned to the family room still in her yoga pants from the night before but with a clean shirt and her hair brushed quickly. "Sorry to run out like this guys, but Santana's pretty upset and Brittany's a wreck about that. Amy, breakfast was amazing as always. Thank you."

"You're welcome, of course."

"Artie, I'll call you when everyone and everything has calmed down. It may be a while," she kissed him quickly then walked back towards the dining room and said, "Lexi, I have to run, pretty girl, but I can't go without my hugs."

The youngest Abrams jumped out of her chair and strode quickly towards Quinn who had knelt down to receive her. Small arms wrapped around Quinn's neck and she wrapped one around the little girl's back. They let go and Quinn went to stand up, but Alexis held her arm and said, "Did you say that Brittany was sad about something?" Quinn quirked an eyebrow and nodded at her. Alexis explained, "I use to be friends with Brittany when her and Artie were dating. Can I give you one more hug so you can give it to Brittany and tell her that I miss her I hope she feels better soon?"

The sweetness, the absolute sincerity in the girl's voice absolutely melted Quinn. "Of course you can, and I'll be sure to pass along your message."

"Thanks," Alexis said as she hugged Quinn once more. She let go and said, "Bye, Quinn."

"Bye, sweetie," she replied. Quinn stood and turned to head back to the front door.

"Quinn, if you change your mind and think I can help, call me," Artie said.

"Okay," she said flatly, "Bye."

"Bye." They kissed again, and then Quinn was out the door. When she was gone, Artie turned to look at his mom. "If I need to go over there, can you give me a ride?"

"Of course, honey," Amy said, "but just so I clear, this Santana is the girl that Brittany left you for, right?"

"Yeah, Mom, she is, but she's also Quinn's friend, and I not in love with Brittany anymore but I do still care about her as a person and she's apparently really upset that Santana's upset, and besides all that not a lot of people understand what she's going through right now."

"Did I ever tell you that you're an amazing kid?" Amy asked.

"You might have mentioned it," he smiled. "I going to go shower as fast as I can."

"Not too fast," Amy broke out her mom voice. "Wanting to help Santana is noble and all but nobility is only so useful if you hurt yourself trying to race through your routine."

"Okay, Mom," he replied as he was making his way towards his bedroom.

**X X X X X**

It was only about a ten minute drive from Artie's to Santana's house which didn't really leave Quinn much time to formulate anything resembling a plan about what to say or do. She'd been running purely on instinct so far, but she knew she had nothing when it came to words of comfort. She'd never lost anyone. She hadn't even known anyone who died. Suddenly she regretted not talking to Artie about what he had in mind that might help. Before she could get too far into that line of thinking, she found herself turning into the driveway to Santana's father's house. Before Quinn even had the car parked Brittany had the front door flung open bounding towards her. Quinn stopped the car as fast as possible and shoved her way out of the car just in time to be hit with an attack-hug from Brittany. "I can't make her stop," the blonde sobbed into Quinn's shoulder, "I'm a bad girlfriend."

"Hey," Quinn responded quickly, "no, no, no. You aren't a bad girlfriend. You aren't a bad anything, honey. Do you hear me?" Brittany nodded against Quinn's shoulder. "Now let's go inside and see what we can do to help our girl." Brittany took Quinn's hand and Quinn led them back into the house. Inside Quinn could hear sobs and music coming from upstairs… and nothing else. Quinn rolled her eyes and said, "I assume Cynthia suddenly had to go get her nails done or something?"

"Sale at Macy's," Brittany said softly. Quinn wasn't a psychologist nor would she ever claim to fully understand the intricacies of human behavior but it certainly didn't take a genius to see that a great many of Santana Lopez's issues stemmed from having a pair or workaholic parents and an alcoholic, aging trophy wife of a step mother who ran for the hills at the first sign trouble. It's why she clung so hard to her friends, especially Brittany, and probably why her loyalty had shifted to Glee Club, these were the people in her life that stood by her no matter what.

Quinn led Brittany up the stairs towards the sounds of the late soul singer blasting from Santana's computer. The door was standing wide open revealing Santana lying on the full sized bed in the fetal position crying her eyes out. "That's all she does, just cries and cries," Brittany said, "for like hours now. She won't talk, she won't move, she won't even look at me. I'm so scared, Quinn. I've never seen her like this. I don't know what to do."

And there it was again, what to do? Quinn was again struck by the fact that she had no plan, in fact had no idea where to even start. She had no experience comforting people. Her three years as Old Quinn had her causing people to hurt like this, and during her years as Lucy most people had avoided her altogether. She was completely on foreign territory. "You've probably already tried this, but go lay down with her." Brittany climbed onto the bed and snuggled up behind her girlfriend resting her head lightly on Santana's bicep. Quinn made her way to the other side of the Latina, kneeling in front of her. One of Santana's hands was hanging limply off the edge of the bed; Quinn took it in both of hers and said, "Santana, can you hear me? It's Quinn. I read about what happened, I'm so, so sorry, honey. What can we do? We'll do whatever we can to help you through this. We're here for you. Can you talk to us?"

After a further twenty minutes of talking to her and failing to illicit even an acknowledgement from her friend, Quinn slumped to the floor and said to herself, "What would you have done, Artie?"

"What?" Brittany said lifting her head off Santana. "What did you say?"

"Oh, I don't know, honey," Quinn muttered, "Artie said that he thought he could help, but…"

Brittany cut her off very forcefully, "Then why the hell isn't he here?" Brittany grabbed her cell phone on the nightstand above Quinn's head. She scrolled through the contacts as she climbed off the bed walking over to where Quinn was sitting. "Damn it!" Brittany yelled as she tossed her phone back on the bed. Brittany's sudden burst of profanity was odd for her. "San deleted his number out of my phone when we got together. Where's your phone, Quinn?"

Before Quinn could answer she found herself being groped by Brittany trying to find it for herself. Quinn finally said, "It's in my bag, honey. I left it in the car." With that, Brittany jammed her hand into Quinn's pants pocket to get the keys she'd already located and flew out of the room in quest of the phone. She was out of the room, down the stairs, out the door, down the driveway, into the car, and back in under two minutes.

She was already on the phone with Artie when she re-entered the room. "…so you'll come? Do you need a ride? K, call back when you get here so we can help you into the house. Thank you, Artie, this is totally righteous of you." She hung up the phone and immediately started ringing. Brittany looked at it and said, "Why is Rachel calling you?"

Brittany held the phone out to Quinn who took saying, "It's probably about The News Team. I'll just tell her it's not a good time." Quinn stepped out of Santana's bedroom and walked halfway down the hall before pushing the button to answer, "Hey, Rachel."

"Hello, Quinn," Rachel replied, "I'd ask how you were but I've just heard the news, so I imagine I already know the answer to that question. How is she?"

It took Quinn a long moment to realize that Rachel was talking about Santana. "She's… well, what if it were Barbara, right?"

"I shudder to think, but that is as I expected. We posted a brief statement on The Wire regarding her passing thinking that Santana would want to eulogize her properly when she's ready for such things. I was attempting to gather the proper sentiment to express my regret and I find that my extensive vocabulary is failing me."

"You and me, both," Quinn replied. "I'm over here trying to talk to her, trying to get her to talk to me, but I have no clue what to say. Not that it would do any good if I did know what to say because aside from being awake, she's basically in a coma. She sobs hysterically until her body just can't do it anymore and then she stares at the wall until she relaxes enough to resume sobbing. I'm at a complete loss for what to do or say."

"Well, I am going to attempt to express my condolences in the best way I know how, baking cookies. Would you happen to know if she would prefer sugar, oatmeal raisin, or chocolate chip cookies?" Rachel asked.

"Well," Quinn said, "chocolate chip would be the least healthy of those three, so probably that."

"Ah, yes, the inverse proportionality of 'healthy' and 'comforting', I don't understand that at all," Rachel said.

"You've never been on a Cheerios diet," Quinn simply put.

"Very well, then chocolate chip it is, I shall see you within the hour, Quinn."

"Bye, Rachel."

About five minutes later, Quinn got another call this time from Artie saying he was almost there. Quinn went and got Brittany and they went out front and met them just as Amy rolled up in the family van. Artie wheeled himself out the side door and up to the girls. "Thanks for coming, Artie," Brittany said as brightly as she could muster which was considerably short of her usual bubbly self.

"You're welcome, Britt. You know all of this has nothing to do with you, right? Santana being sad doesn't make you a bad girlfriend or a bad friend or anything, okay? It's just something she's going through. Remember I had my grumpy days." Brittany nodded. "It's going to take time, but Santana will be okay."

"Do you promise?" Brittany asked extending her right pinky.

Artie linked his pinky with hers. "I promise."

"Thank you, Artie," she said as she hugged him gently.

Brittany, then, went to get the door while Quinn pushed him up the walk. "I'm sorry I blew out of there without even talking to you. I have no idea how you're going to help but I should have given you the chance."

"It's okay," Artie replied, "Your friend was hurting; you were just reacting."

Quinn helped him over the threshold into the house up to the base of the stairs, at which point Quinn said, "So how are we going to do this?"

"Just grab the chair," Brittany said, as in one fluid motion she squatted and scooped Artie up in her arms seemingly effortlessly. Artie linked his arms around Brittany's neck to help with his weight and Brittany began ascending the stairs.

Quinn turned around to back the chair up the staircase. As she went, she secretly hoped the chair would scuff up the hardwood stairs or scratch the perfectly pristine wall along her right or the polished banister on her left. That would piss Cynthia off but good. When she got to the top, Quinn spun the chair around so Brittany could deposit the boy back into it. "I always forget how freaky strong you are, Britt."

"Brittany, have you eaten this morning?" Artie asked. Brittany just shook her head. "I figured. Quinn, will you take her to the kitchen and feed her?" Brittany started to protest but Artie waved her off. "I'm not kidding when I say this is going to take time. It could be hours before she even acknowledges anyone else's existence. You need to eat. You'll probably have time to go for a run if you want to, too."

"Thank you for doing this for me, Artie," Brittany said, "I know it's totally not cool to ask your ex-boyfriend to come fix your new girlfriend, but I just didn't know what else to do."

"Hey," he said, "we're still friends, right?"

"Totally!" the blonde responded. It was the most enthusiastic they'd seen her today. "And I am completely starving. Q, it's Saturday, right?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Do you go to Pancake Day at Artie's house?"

"Only always," Quinn replied with a smile.

"I totally miss it. Can you make pancakes?" Quinn nodded. "With bananas and blueberries?"

"Yeah, honey, let's go make a huge mess in the kitchen for Cynthia to be pissed about. Oh yeah, and I owe you a hug from Alexis," Quinn said as the girls began their trek into the kitchen.

As the girls went to eat, Artie wheeled himself into Santana's room and found her much as Quinn had found her earlier, pretty much unmoved from forty minutes previous. Artie wheeled himself up next to the bed and parked himself. He took her dangling hand in his and said, "I'm here, Santana, expecting nothing from you, making no demands of you. I'm just here."

They remained like that in silence for the next hour. Santana would variously cry and stare at the wall in silence. Artie would let go of Santana's hand long enough to shift his legs and then take the hand right back. Quinn came in and brought them both a bottle of water. Artie mouthed a thank you to her. Quinn kissed Artie on the lips and Santana on the temple then exited the room again. Twenty minutes after that Santana moved for the first time in hours when she stretched her legs out straight, in doing so she gripped Artie's hand, and suddenly she appeared to realize that she was holding someone's hand and glanced up to see that it was in fact Artie. Her expression never changed and she made to move to withdraw her hand from his. Artie wordlessly offered her one bottle of water. Santana shook her head slightly and she resumed staring at the wall. They passed another hour and a half like this with Santana crying only a couple times. Artie's cell phone chirped. He retrieved it and read the text message from Quinn saying that she was laying down with Brittany for a nap. When he looked back at Santana she had a look of curiosity on her face. Artie just shook it off. Another hour passed in silence and finally Santana spoke, her voice hoarse and raw from crying all day, "You think you can fix me, Artie?"

Artie didn't look at her, just shook his head for a minute before adding, "I'm not here to fix you. I'm not here to 'help,'" he said inflecting the last word to echo the offers he was certain she'd got from Quinn and Brittany. "I'm just _here._"

"Brittany?" Santana inquired.

"If you want to talk you need to drink at least some of this," Artie said, offering her the water once again. She propped herself up on one elbow and accepted the bottle. She twisted off the lid and took a small sip followed by a much larger drink. "Brittany is laying down for a nap with Quinn."

"Why couldn't I talk to them? Why couldn't I let them help me?" Santana asked.

"Because they want to _do _something, they want to fix you. There's not really anything they can do to help because they don't know what you're going through."

"And you do?" Any other time that would have come out spiteful and sarcastic, but today it was more genuine curiosity. She finished the water off and flung the empty bottle in the direction of the trash can neither looking to see nor caring if it landed there or not. She flopped back down on the bed pretty much exactly where she was, even sticking her right hand back out towards Artie.

Artie took the offered hand in both of his. "You feel like you've lost a member of your family, she meant that much to you. In your case, she probably felt like a big sister or a young, cool aunt." Santana cast her ideas down at the second suggestion. "Then that feeling makes you feel stupid for feeling that way because she wasn't a member of your family, she wasn't your aunt," Santana's face scrunched up in hurt on the verge of tears again. "_That_ feeling, the feeling that someone that you feel so connected to didn't know you at all, won't_ ever_ know you… it makes you feel like hollow, I think is the best way to describe it. You feel like if this connection that you felt so much was all one sided, then what's to say that all the connections you feel aren't also unrequited?" Now Santana was once again in a full on sob. "And then you feel guilty for demeaning the relationships you do have, and in your case that means that you doubted Brittany who you know you have no reason to doubt, and you're scared that she hates you for it, but the truth is she's only concerned about you and wanting to take care of you." Santana's grip on Artie's hand went tight and she held it for a long time as she cried herself out once more.

After ten minutes of silence between them, Santana spoke again, "There's just no way you guessed all that. Who did you lose?" She raised her head to look at him when he didn't answer immediately.

He looked over at her, sighed, and said, "Michael Jackson."

"Holy fuck, yeah," Santana responded. "That had to be fucking brutal, that whole media circus."

He nodded, "It was, and unless I miss my guess, just like I did with Michael, you over identify with Amy. You see her as something of a kindred spirit. You look at her and you see someone who is beautiful and talented but who's also hurting and a little bit damaged and that feels very familiar and you really _needed_ her to come out the other of it and make her triumphant comeback so that you'd know that you could make it through whatever it is that eating at you, too." Artie felt her grip tighten on his once again.

"Why the _fuck_ did she have to die, Artie?" Santana pleaded for an answer.

He just shook his head gently and said, "I can't answer that question. I doubt there's anyone yet living who can… but, look at me, Santana." She cast her gaze up to his. "You are _not _her. She is not you. Just because she didn't make it doesn't mean that you won't make it."

"Just… life goes on, huh?" Santana asked.

"Yeah," Artie responded, "and you'll probably feel guilty about that, too." Artie's phone chirped again. He looked at it. "They can hear us talking. They want to know if they can come in and see us, yet."

"Yeah, I needs mah B," Santana said. "But before you call them in here, I need to say something."

"Okay," he said.

"Last year, when I was busy having my head up my ass, thank you for keeping our Brittany company, and I'm not sorry that I got her back but it sucks that you had to get hurt for it to happen and I'm sorry about that, and I'm glad you found Q. You and her will be really good for each other, I think."

"Thanks, Santana," he said, "and it was absolutely my pleasure to keep Brittany company." Artie fired off a text message to Quinn and less than thirty seconds the bedroom door burst open to reveal a cautiously hopeful Brittany and a smiling Quinn.

"San?" the blonde said

"Hey, baby. I'm sorry I had you so worried," the Latina said.

"It's okay. Are you all better now?"

"No, honey, not yet. It's gonna be a while yet, but you know what would help though? Some serious Brittany-cuddles. Can you hook me up?"

"Totally!" Brittany said with a huge grin on her face. "Do you wanna be the big spoon or the little spoon?"

"I think I wanna get my big spoon on," Brittany instantly darted to the bed and lay down in front of Santana. Quinn made herself at home on Artie's lap.

"Quinn, made me pancakes," Brittany said.

"Is that right?" Santana asked.

"Yup, with bananas and blueberries, and a whipped cream smiley face. They were muy delicioso."

"They _sound_ muy delicioso. Artie called me beautiful and talented," Santana said.

"Aww, Artie," she said looking at the boy, "Did you tell her about the blind space musician?"

"What?" Quinn and Santana asked simultaneously.

Artie chuckled and said, "Back when Brittany and I were together, once I was trying to explain why music means so much to me and I was talking about how when you make music a part of you gets to live forever, and I told her about a guy named Blind Willie Johnson who was a blues musician in the 1920's. He mostly played on street corners for change. He only ever made thirty recordings in his lifetime, and he died penniless when he caught pneumonia after sleeping in the ruins of his burned down house, but in 1977 NASA set the Voyager I deep space probe up into space and in 2004 it became the first manmade object to leave our solar system. On the chance that Voyager is encountered by extra-terrestrial life it has photos of life on Earth, greetings in 50 different languages, and music from all throughout human history including 'Cold Was the Night (Hard Was the Ground)' by Blind Willie Johnson…"

"So when the space aliens find it," Brittany cut him off, "they'll know about Blind Willie, which totally sounds like a dick joke but it's not, and it'll be like he never died in such a super sad way, and some day they'll send Amy Winehouse's music into space too, plus you'll always remember her cuz you totally love her."

"Not as much as I love you," Santana replied.

Brittany's eyes went wide and she strained to look at the girl behind her. "You never said it in front of people before."

"Well, I'm saying it now," said Santana.

"I totally love you, too," Brittany said excitedly.

"I love you, too, San," Quinn said adding, "You know, no homo." Artie and Santana both started laughing immediately. Santana laughed so hard it brought tears to her eyes once again. Brittany smiled at her girlfriend's joy. Artie managed to compose himself but Santana completely failed which caused Artie to break again. "I don't see what's so funny," Quinn said with innocent sincerity.

In between laughs, Santana managed to explain, "Hermosa, despite my baby having a fairer completion, you are the whitest girl in the room and probably the whitest girl we know and you just said no homo."

"Fine, mock me. I won't give you any of the cookies that Rachel baked for you."

Now it was time for Santana's eyes to go wide. "There's cookies? Why aren't they here?"

Quinn looked around the room. Santana had an arm wrapped around Brittany that the blonde clung to for dear life. Her other arm was trapped under Brittany and was still clung onto Artie's hand. "Okay, I guess, I'll go get them." She stood and walked towards the doorway.

Just as Quinn go to the opened door, Santana said, "Hey, Q?"

"Yeah," Quinn said looking back.

"I get it now," Santana replied flicking her glace up in Artie's direction. Quinn smiled at her friend who smiled back genuinely.

**A/N: I went back and forth about writing this chapter because I didn't want it to seem exploitative of the late great Miss Winehouse and yet at the same time, it happened. She died, and between her performances of Valarie and Back to Black, in my mind at least, there's no version of Santana Lopez that doesn't love the hell out of Amy Winehouse, and this version of Santana is going through some emotional stuff this summer with accepting herself and her sexuality, so it seemed only natural that the sudden, tragic death of an artist that she loved would rip her to pieces emotionally.**


	16. An Impromptu Celebration

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: I was shooting for having this published yesterday to make it three updates in three days, just as a personal accomplishment, but then this chapter just kept going and going. This is the longest chapter I've ever written for any story ever and believe it or not this is the trimmed down version of the chapter. There was more here. Anyway, hope you enjoy…**

**Chapter 16**

**An Impromptu Celebration **

"This summer is going by way too fast," Artie said. "I just realized that today is August 1st. How is it already August?"

"As it turns out, August almost always follows July," Quinn replied, "You want anything down this aisle?" They were in the supermarket loading up on snacks for a long afternoon/evening/night of movies. They had already procured popcorn and a decidedly unhealthy portion of butter to go on it, Goobers, Starbursts, Red Vines, Sour Punch Straws, and a variety of chocolate bars.

"We need to obtain some Cheez-Its and maybe some miniature doughnuts," Artie said.

"Powdered or Chocolate?" Quinn asked.

"Is there some reason we have to pick just one?" Artie asked

Quinn looked back at him with a grin on her face as she turned a corner. She looked back up to where she was walking just in time to avoid running into someone else who wasn't watching where they were going. That someone being a very distracted looking Rachel Berry, "My word, excuse me, Quinn. I very nearly ran into you not paying sufficient attention to where I'm going."

"I wasn't paying attention either," she said, "although I blame Artie."

"Hey, Rachel," Artie said.

"Hello, Artie, how are the two of you doing this afternoon?"

"We're good, loading up on snacks," Artie said.

"Movie night," Quinn added, "How are you? Oh, hey, today's your birthday, isn't it? Happy Birthday, do you have big plans?"

Rachel sighed and dropped her head. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. Raising her head again she said, "In answer to your questions: I've been much better, yes, it is my birthday, thank you for remembering and for your birthday wishes, and no, I do not have big plans or much of any plans since I foolishly turned down an offer from Mercedes and Kurt thinking that my boyfriend might actually want to take me out for my birthday, and while I feel somewhat silly complaining considering the lavish style in which my fathers took me out this past weekend, I still feel I warranted better than to find out after he left that Finn went out on an overnight fishing trip with Burt and won't be back until Wednesday. And I'm terribly sorry to unload all of that on you, I know you were simply making polite conversation and didn't want to hear about my overabundance of drama. I'll once again thank you for your birthday wishes and leave you to your evening."

"Hey, whoa," Quinn said, putting a hand on Rachel's shoulder. Quinn glanced back at Artie hitching an eyebrow at him and nodding slightly at Rachel. Artie shrugged and nodded slightly, punctuating with a thumbs up. They really had non-verbal communication down. "Okay, you aren't sitting home alone on your eighteenth birthday. It is your eighteenth birthday, right?"

"Yes," Rachel replied.

"Okay, I thought so. For some reason, I have trouble reconciling the idea of you being older than the rest of us. I think it's because you're so tiny, but anyway. Like I said, you aren't sitting home alone on your birthday. Come hang out with us."

"I don't wish to interrupt a private evening…"

"Not a private evening," Quinn cut her off. "We're just hanging out at my house watching movies. I mean my mom's home and everything. Oh, call Mercedes and Kurt. Invite them. If they're busy fine, if not they should come. Blaine and Sam, too, it's fine."

"Sam?" Rachel echoed.

"I didn't say that. You didn't hear that," Quinn shot out quickly.

"So Sam and…Mercedes?" Rachel worked it out.

"I didn't tell you. Who else should we invite?" Quinn asked quickly changing the subject, "Sunshine, invite Sunshine. Artie, can you…"

He cut her off, "I've already sent text messages to Kurt, Mercedes, and Sam, Mercedes and Sam separately so they can keep up their charade, told them to text or call you for specifics. I don't have Sunshine's number."

"Sunshine says she'd be delighted to come," Rachel said having snapped into planning mode. "I am sending her directions. What time are we congregating?"

Quinn looked at the time on her phone and said, "It's a quarter to four now, tell her five o'clock. Artie, we need many more snacks now. We need chips, dip, cookies, sodas… a cake. Artie, put your magic Google powers to work and see if we can get a vegan birthday cake on short notice and if not…"

"If not, find out how to make one," he finished for her, "On it."

Something dawned on Quinn, "Oh, Mike and Tina, we should invite…"

"They're in San Francisco," Artie said.

"Oh, right," Quinn said, "I read about that on Facebook. Mike has recently immigrated family out there."

Rachel watched on in awe of the synchronicity of the couple before her. They seemingly knew and understood each other so well that is was astounding considering that as far as Rachel knew they hadn't even really been friends before the summer, and yet they were so…together. "Are we forgetting anything?" Quinn asked.

"Vegan snacks," Artie said.

"Duh!" Quinn said to herself, "Rachel, what kind of vegan snacks do you like? Just like fruits and veggies?" Quinn asked.

Artie reached up and touched the brunette on the arm, "Rachel?"

Rachel snapped out of her haze. "I'm sorry, Quinn, Artie. I was entirely consumed in my own thoughts. What did you ask me?"

"I said what kind of snacks do you like?"

"You don't have to go to all this trouble, Quinn."

Quinn held up her phone so Rachel could see it. "Kurt and Mercedes are in, now it's officially a party, and again I say, what kind of snacks do you like? If you don't tell me, we'll just raid the _whole_ produce aisle."

"I can purchase my own snacks. You're already feeding a virtual army of carnivores all for my benefit. I can foot the bill for my food," Rachel said.

"Nope," Quinn said flatly, "not happening. It's your birthday. You're not paying for anything. If it makes you feel any better, Rach, my self-righteous, hypocritical, racist, sexist, homophobic father is really the one footing the bill for all of this. In fact, I may send him an e-mail telling him that I dropped a couple hundred dollars celebrating the birthday of the Jewish daughter of two gay men, one of whom is black, also in attendance, another pair of gay men, a black woman, a Filipino girl, and my handicapped boyfriend, all in his big uppity mansion. It's too bad Brittany and Santana are at Cheer Camp, I could add bi-sexual free spirit and mixed race/Latina lesbian to that list. Ha! I wonder how red his face would get."

"Well, when you put it like that," Rachel said, "I suppose all that's left to say is that you seem to have neglected to mention ice cream."

"Too right you are, Birthday Girl," Quinn said.

"Quinn, I got the details on vegan cake and icing. Also, your mom," Artie said.

"Yeah, I might want to run this all by her. Movie Night with you and I just turned into a birthday party for _eight_." She flipped through her contacts punching her mother's listing. "Mom, hey…"

**X X X X X**

"Mom, this is my friend Rachel Berry. Rachel, this is my mother, Judy Fabray." Quinn made introductions. The trio was busy hauling in enough groceries to feed an army. Quinn and Rachel dropped their arm loads on the kitchen counters.

"Thank you agreeing to host this, Mrs. Fabray," Rachel said extending a hand.

She accepted the hand and said, "You're quite welcome, Rachel, dear, but please call me Judy. It's nice to meet you, and Happy Birthday. I just wish Quinn had given me a little more warning. I could have decorated the house a little."

"Very well, Judy," said Rachel, "and thank you for the well wishes, but I'm afraid you can't fault Quinn in this instance as this party is being put together on the fly. Also, your home looks perfectly lovely as is."

"Yeah," Quinn said, "we just ran into Rachel at the supermarket and got to talking and found out her birthday plans fell through."

"Oh, that's too bad, dear."

"I'm afraid it's actually worse than that," Rachel said, "Quinn's actually being rather generous. My boyfriend either forgot about it being my birthday or simply ditched me without so much as a by your leave. This after turning down previously offered plans with my friends. Thankfully, Quinn came along and graciously offered to celebrate with me, saving me from an evening alone."

"Gracious sakes," said Judy, "that doesn't sound like a particularly good boyfriend. Do I know this young man?"

"All too well, mom," Quinn said. "Rachel's dating Finn Hudson."

"Oh, is that right?" Quinn suppressed a giggle at her mother's polite way of dissing Finn. "Well it's certainly admirable that you girls haven't let that come between you as friends. Now you said you wanted to make a cake, Quinn?"

"Yes," Quinn said, "a vegan birthday cake and vegan icing. Artie's got the recipe. Where is Artie?" Quinn looked back in the foyer where she found his share of the groceries piled neatly in the floor. "Artie?" She called. She collected the groceries off the floor and momentarily she saw him emerge for the restroom.

"Sorry," he said, "had to make a pit stop and you ladies seemed fully engaged in conversation." He reached for part of the groceries which Quinn surrendered to him.

"I guess you managed okay without hand bars," Quinn said as they made their way back to the kitchen.

"Yeah," he said, "it was a little cramped but I'm pretty use to it."

"Alright, well, I think we're ready to make a cake if you would grace us with the recipe."

"Hello, Judy," he said, "how are you today?"

"I'm good, Artie," she said with a smile, "Thanks for asking. How are you?"

"I am fantastically well," Artie said with his trademark smile. "Have you ever made a vegan birthday cake before?"

"I've not. I look forward to trying something new," Judy said, "Do you have a recipe for me?"

"I do," he said retrieving his phone. Judy gave him a notepad and a pen and he jotted it down.

Judy looked at the list and said, "So basically you use a butter substitute and no eggs?" There was a chorus of shrugs. Quinn and Artie had never made a vegan cake and Rachel had never made a non-vegan cake, so no one really knew. "Looks simple enough. I was going to make a stir fry for dinner so you kids had some real food instead of just junk. I'll cook the chicken in a separate pan for the meat eating crowd. Assuming that's okay with you, Rachel."

"Of course, I'd never force my diet on anyone. While veganism, I feel, is the more ethical, the more humane, and certainly the more healthy lifestyle choice, I certainly understand that it isn't for everyone."

"Excellent," she replied, "then maybe you girls could help chop the vegetables and Artie, you could chop the chicken. I'll get started on the cake. We should have just enough time before the rest of your friends start to arrive."

**X X X X X**

As it turned out only Artie finished before guests began arriving. The chicken was fully chopped and Artie had even washed up while Quinn and Rachel were still working or, more precisely, while they were chatting endlessly with little bits of work sprinkled in between.

So when the doorbell rang Artie volunteered to go get it. He opened the front door to find Mercedes and Sam standing together, smiling and giggling. When Sam noticed the door was open he tried and failed to wipe the big, dumb grin off his face. "Uh, hey, man, Artie," he said, "I, uh, caught a ride with Mercedes. Y'know, gas prices and all."

"Seriously?" Artie asked as he ushered them in. "That's the story you're going with tonight?" Artie closed the door behind them.

"What? Story? What are you talking about, dude?" Sam's ability to feign ignorance or confusion, whichever he was going for, was pretty pitiful.

Artie pulled out his phone, "Sam I think I got a text message that was supposed to be sent to you, it's from 'Everybody Else in the World' and it says 'It's been almost three months, everyone knows, no one cares, drop this goofy charade and just be happy.'"

"Everybody?" Sam's face fell.

"Well, okay, I don't know about everyone but everyone that going to be here tonight. I figured it out a while ago. You kept having the same plans. You'd tell me about doing this or that and then Cedes would post about having done the same thing on Facebook. Quinn knows and she slipped up and told Rachel a little while ago. Kurt knows?" Artie inquired of Mercedes.

"Kurt knows everything about everyone," she nodded to confirm.

"That means Blaine most likely knows," Artie said, "so that leaves Quinn's mom and Sunshine, neither of whom knows you well enough for it to matter. Not that I even know why you felt the need to hide it in the first place."

"We just wanted to avoid all the drama while we were new," Sam said.

"You know how crazy this crew can be," Mercedes added, "Jealous ex's and all that."

"Well, you," he pointed at Sam, "have two ex's at our school and you," he pointed at Mercedes, "have one, and as far as I know, all three are happy in relationships with other people. So hold your woman's hand if you want, kiss her if the mood strikes, but for God's sake relax. This is a party. Beverages are in the kitchen. Sam you know where that is, yeah?"

Sam shook his head, "Never been here."

"Really?" Artie asked.

"Yeah, I think she was leery of me ever meeting her mom after the impression that Finn made."

"Sounds about right," Artie chuckled, "anyway, the kitchen is through there." He pointed them in right general direction. "Just listen for the sounds of Quinn and Rachel giggling like schoolgirls. There's a mountain of junk food in the den, through here, we're in the process of making dinner and there will be cake and ice cream later."

Sam smiled crookedly at Mercedes who smiled back brightly. He offered up his right hand which she took in her left. They headed towards all the noise coming from the kitchen. The pair rounded a corner into an enormous white kitchen and though she'd been told it was happening, Mercedes was most definitely not prepared for the image before her, that of Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry standing in close proximity to one another, laughing and apparently having a good time. It was unusual enough to see them laughing as neither girl did it much that Mercedes had seen, but together? This was just too much to be believed. Then again, this was a birthday party _for_ Rachel _at_ Quinn's house. Still, for whatever reason, Mercedes couldn't help but feel like she was being Punk'd. "Happy Birthday," Mercedes said finally drawing Rachel's attention.

"Mercedes!" Rachel said excitedly as she dropped the food she was working on to hug her dear friend. "I'm so very glad you could make it with the plans being so very last minute. I'm sorry I turned your plans down for the seemingly non-existent plans of my disappointment of a boyfriend. And speaking of boyfriends, I've been sworn off giving lectures at my party but bear in mind that there is one in your future concerning your keeping a secret your relationship with Sam from someone who is supposed to be one of your closest friends. Hello, Sam, thank you for coming."

"Hey," the blonde boys said, somewhat stunned by the preceding verbal barrage.

"Can I offer either of you a beverage? We also have a wealth of junk food…"

"Rach, relax," said Quinn walking over to join them, placing a gentle hand on the brunette's shoulder. "_I'm_ the hostess of this party. _You_ are the guest of honor. You do the hugging and squealing and some of the thanking. I do the beverage and food offers," Quinn looked at the couple in front of her, "Sam, Mercedes, welcome. Can I get you a beverage?"

"Water," Mercedes said.

"Do you have sweet tea?" Sam asked.

"You southern boys and your sweet tea," Quinn said teasingly, "Yes, I do." Quinn opened the door to the refrigerator and retrieved a bottle of each and handed them over. "I'll endeavor in my duties as hostess to keep you in something to drink but if I fall down on the job, feel free to help yourself to anything in here."

"Thanks," they said in unison.

"Awww, they come in holding hands and now their brains are already in synch," Quinn said to Rachel, "Aren't they cute?"

"The cutest," Rachel replied.

"I don't know about that. Artie and I are damn cute."

"Quinn, language," Judy called down her daughter.

"Where are my manners? The beautiful woman with the sifter, my mother, Judy Fabray. Mom, Sam Evans and you remember Mercedes Jones, right?"

"Of course," Judy said, "welcome. Make yourselves at home, we'll be cooking soon and there are snacks to tide you over."

"A mountain of snacks, healthy and otherwise," Quinn directed at Sam, the health nut, "in the den. In fact, Rachel why don't you go with them? I might actually get this stir-fry prepped without you here to distract me."

"A fine thing to say to someone on their birthday!" Rachel huffed and stamped her foot.

"I didn't say I didn't enjoy the distraction, but I need to get this ready. Now, go, relax, enjoy your party…" The doorbell rang again, "and if you beat Artie to the door, let them in." Rachel assented and left the kitchen followed closely by Sam and Mercedes. The couple headed for the den while Rachel made her way excitedly to the front door and whipped it open to reveal a tiny Filipino girl dressed in sneakers, shorts and a too big t-shirt.

"Sunshine! Thank you for coming," Rachel said.

"Thank you for inviting me," she replied as she moved to hug Rachel which Rachel gladly accepted.

"Come," Rachel said, "We're all headed to the den to settle in for snacks and movies, and of course I have my fellow vegan taken care of in the snack department."

"Thanks, Rachel," Sunshine said as they walked. In the den they found Artie still arranging things and Sam and Mercedes curled up together on the couch looking at each other smiling and making eyes at each other, clearly loving being open about their relationship at long last. Sunshine held up a small package wrapped in newspaper and said, "I brought this for you, Rachel."

"Oh, you didn't have to do that," Rachel said accepting the present.

"It's your birthday," the tiny girl shrugged, "you're supposed to get presents on your birthday."

"Well, thank you very much, Sunshine," Rachel replied as she started to unwrap it.

On the couch Sam looked at Mercedes and said, "We didn't get her anything. Should we have gotten her something?"

"Me and Kurt are taking her shopping on Wednesday. I'll pick her up something then," Mercedes told him, "I don't know what you're gonna do," she added with a smile.

"Sunshine this is amazing!" Rachel exclaimed.

"What did you get?" inquired Artie.

"It requires a bit of explaining," Rachel said, "Last year, on Sunshine's first and only day at McKinley, she and I improvised an impressive duet of 'Telephone' in the second floor girl's restroom, so she has apparently Photoshopped our faces onto an image of Lady Gaga and Beyonce." She handed the picture in the frame to Artie for his examination.

"That is crazy cool," Artie said. The doorbell rang once more and Artie handed the picture back to Rachel and yelled, "I GOT IT!" down the corridor.

"NO, YOU DON'T!" Quinn shouted back.

"You two are so adorable," Rachel said.

"You know it," said Artie.

"Is there a Birthday Girl in the house?" Kurt called from the doorway, flanked by Blaine and Quinn. He was carrying a rather large bouquet of calla lilies in his arms.

Rachel hopped over to the doorway to greet the boy, "Oh, my Kurt, they're lovely. Thank you!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you think these were for you? I'm so sorry to have misled you," Kurt teased clutching them to his chest momentarily before handing them over to her and pulling her into a hug. "Happy Birthday, Beautiful."

"Thank you, Kurt," she said, "Thank you for coming and thank you for the flowers. They're my absolute favorite, but of course you already know that."

"I do," he said, "and you're very welcome."

Back on the couch, Sam said, "Yeah, we definitely should have brought something."

"Yeah," Mercedes concurred, "we suck."

"Okay, Rachel," said Quinn, "I'm afraid that I have fallen short in one respect tonight. If you had visions of watching movie musicals tonight, I must inform you that the selection is limited to _Enchanted_."

"Not true," Artie interjected, "You've still got my copy of _Dr. Horrible_."

"What is _Dr. Horrible_?" Rachel asked.

Sunshine perked up and said, "You haven't seen _Dr. Horrible's Sing-a-long Blog_? Rachel, it's got Neil Patrick Harris in it. How have you not seen this?"

"I am baffled, confounded, stupefied, mystified, befuddled. This must be rectified, at once. Quinn, where is this DVD?"

"Relax, Tiny Diva," Quinn said, "I'll go grab it."

An hour later, the stir-fry had been served and consumed, the movie had been watched, and vegan cake had been enjoyed by all. Rachel had been enthralled by the short film. Her love of Neil Patrick Harris had doubled. She'd begged Artie to do a duet of "On The Rise" with her when school started back up since he was most familiar with the song and had the range closest to the song.

Afterwards, they had put in the Robert Downey Jr. - Jude Law _Sherlock Holmes_ but no one was paying it much attention. Blaine and Sam had somehow gotten on the subject of football, which left Kurt and Mercedes to go into heavy gossip mode. Artie and Sunshine were bonding over their mutual Joss Whedon fandom. Judy had finished off making the cake and had retired upstairs to leave the kids to their fun. Quinn returned from the kitchen distributing a round of beverages finishing with a bottle of water for Rachel after which she flopped down on the couch next to the brunette. "I love this couch," Quinn said, "I think I could live on it."

"It is quite comfortable," Rachel replied.

"This was the first thing my mom and I did after I moved back in… after she kicked dad out, get some comfortable furniture. The house used to be full of stiff, uncomfortable antiques."

"I've never understood the appeal of that decorating stratagem," Rachel replied.

"Me either," said Quinn watching the TV.

Rachel bit at the corner of her lower lip as she contemplated her one-time-tormentor-turned-birthday-hostess. She went to speak and stopped herself, then began again, "Quinn, though I very much wish to avoid being rude and ungrateful, I feel as though I must ask you why have you done all of this?"

Quinn shot an eye Rachel's way. She could plainly see, even at a glance, that there was no suspicion or accusation on her face or in her voice. It was completely and totally curiosity with a little confusion. "I… I don't know, Rach, because it's your birthday?"

"Right, but…" she trailed off in contemplation, "Put it a different way, when we arrived here this afternoon, you introduced me to your mother as your friend. Is that how you see us now, as friends?"

Quinn pulled her left leg under her so that she could fully turn to face Rachel since she could tell that this was about to become a more involved conversation. She lay her head down on her left arm against the back of the couch. "That's kind of a complicated question for us, isn't it?" Rachel nodded slightly. "We've certainly been friendly towards each other the last few weeks and clearly we have a very easy rapport. Aristotle once famously said that the definition of friends was one soul living in two bodies, and while I don't think we are quite there yet, I think I'd say yes, at least for my part we're friends."

Rachel beamed brightly as she said, "For my part as well, especially after tonight. Now another question, you mentioned that we had an easy rapport, to which I certainly agree. Do you think it would always have been this easy between us or did we have to go through everything we went through to get to where we are now?"

Quinn contemplated this for a minute before speaking again, "It probably would have always been this easy, if it hadn't been for me and stupid jealousies…"

"Quinn, stop," Rachel cut her off. "It's in the past, okay? You've apologized, I've accepted, and after tonight, I most certainly forgive you. The purpose of the question was not make you feel guilty nor to elicit another apology from you, but rather just to engage you in a dialogue. Now you said it would always have been this easy. Why is that?"

"Well," she began, "while we've had lots of conflicts over boys, over our mutual strong personalities, over… whatever, to my memory, and feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but to my memory there have been two incidents in our history when we would have been fully justified in hating the other: Prom Night, when I slapped you…"

"And when I let slip about Beth's paternity," Rachel finished.

"Right, and remind me to get back to the subject of Beth in a minute," Quinn said.

"Noted," Rachel said.

"So, two times in our shared history that we might have and probably should have hated one another but we didn't. We weren't even mad at each other. I think that's pretty telling evidence. Friends fight about petty crap, I mean, look and Santana and I, but when serious stuff comes along, pettiness and anger fall away, and I think that's what those events were."

"I can't believe I told sold you out like that, Quinn. I'm…"

"Hey," Quinn cut her off with a wave, "this 'Don't Apologize For Things You've Already Apologized For' rule works both ways here, okay? I know you're sorry for doing that, but quite honestly, I'm _not_ sorry you did it. Living that lie was killing me, but I didn't have the courage to end it, Finn was the last connection I had to my old life, I couldn't bring myself to let go of it voluntarily. But if it makes you feel any better look at the sequence of events, you don't tell Finn and I wouldn't have, then I never get kicked out of his house, I don't move in with Puck and don't get rescued from Puck's by Mercedes, I don't make friends with her and Kurt, then I don't make friends with you and you and I aren't sitting here right now. I would probably still be living with the Hudsons in that tiny trailer because Carole wouldn't have felt comfortable foisting me on Burt when they got married, if they'd have even gotten together at all because would Kurt have tried to win over Finn if I was there? I'd probably still be that same horrible person I was, Finn would probably still be with me instead of you and my geeky prince over there," Quinn pointed at Artie, "would likely have spent this summer miserable and alone pining over Brittany. In that scenario, whose life is better than it is now?"

"That is an excellent point, Quinn. Thank you for your perspective. It really brings the cliché that 'everything happens for a reason' into sharp relief, doesn't it?" Quinn just nodded. "I must make a confession to make. I see the two of you together and I can't help but feel jealous. Not I want Artie," she quickly added, "not that he's not a perfectly nice guy… I'm digging myself into a hole here. I'm not jealous of you or of him but of you both, of your relationship, at the ease of it or at the very least the seeming ease of it. How do you do it?"

"A lot of it comes naturally," Quinn said, "Artie's the most easygoing guy I think I've ever met. Part of it has to do with when we met. We'd both just had our hearts stomped on by others, so we had no illusions about what a romantic relationship was 'supposed' to be. It also helps that we were friends first, I think. We learned all of each other's weird little personality quirks before we decided to be involved so that we accepted each other as we are rather than an image of each other."

"But Finn and I were friends first…"

"No, honey, you weren't," Quinn interrupted, "Remember no apologies necessary, but be honest with yourself. You were only friends because you couldn't have him right away, but you wanted him from the first time he talked to you, right?" Rachel dropped her head and nodded slightly. "Rachel, look at me." Rachel did as Quinn asked brown eyes locking onto hazel. "There are no hurt feelings here, okay? We aren't Finn's girlfriend and his ex right now, we're just friends talking, okay?"

"Okay," she said.

"Okay," Quinn echoed, "So you have this quality about you where you only want to see the best in people and as the beneficiary of that quality, I'm here to tell you that 99% of the time that is an absolutely amazing quality in a person, but that other 1% of the time is your romantic relationship, because for the two of you to ever be really happy together you have to see the other person for exactly who they really are and to accept them for who they are, not who you think they could be or who you want them to be but just who they are then and there. And I'm going to steadfastly refuse to bad mouth Finn in your presence or even suggest what you should do in your relationship with him because it's not my place, but I will say this. He's never going to live up to your big romantic expectations. It's just not who he is, so the question that you have to ask yourself is can you accept him for who he is and be happy with Finn as he is?"

"I just always seem to find myself migrating back to him. That has to mean something doesn't it?"

"It does," Quinn said. "It means he was your first love and that can be hard to get over. Moreover, he was probably the first person to really be nice to you in this whole school and you being the loyal person that you are want to repay that."

"God, yes, is it ever hard to get over," Rachel said, "How did you do it?"

Quinn closed her eyes and chuckled slightly, "Do you want a platitude that will make you feel better or do you want my honest answer?"

"In this as in all things, Quinn," the brunette said, "I want your honest answer."

"Okay," the pink hair girl replied, "I've never been in love, so I've never had to let it go."

Rachel began to respond, "You've…"

Quinn shook her head slowly but decidedly, "We're both girls, Rachel. We're both, to some degree, girly-girls, we watch chick flicks. One notion that they keep hitting on is the idea that love… real love is selfless, that you care more about the other person than you do yourself. I know for certain I've never felt that before… before… I mean, I'm falling pretty hard for Artie," she said in a suddenly very hushed tone. Rachel smiled at the fact that Quinn was confiding something in her. "But I didn't feel that for Finn. I might have, in time, felt it for Sam, but I was too busy trying to trade up on my chances at being Prom Queen and screwed that up, so no, I've never been in love."

"When did you become so deep, Quinn?"

"If by 'deep' you mean the opposite of 'shallow,' it's what I've been working on this summer. If you mean insightful, then I always have been. It's how I was so effective at being horrible to people. I could always pick out someone's biggest weakness or biggest insecurity and go after it. Learning to use my insight skills for good has been something else I've been working on this summer."

They settled into a comfortable silence and watched the movie that was still playing largely ignored in the background. After about twenty minutes Rachel spoke again, "Very often, I think that I don't have any options besides Finn. Other people don't look at me, or at least not in a positive manner, and while I do value myself enough to not have a boyfriend, I just spent so much time without one that I enjoy it now that I do and am reluctant to give it up."

"Can I ask about your clothes then?" Quinn asked.

"What about them?" Rachel responded.

"Do they define you? The argyle, the animal sweaters, the knee socks, are these things a part of what make you, you? If so that's fine, be yourself above all. If not…"

"I should wear skinny jeans and tiny halter tops that leave nothing to the imagination, like all the girls in magazines?"

"No," Quinn replied, "You don't have to be slutty to be sexy and a couple of pairs of jeans to wear here and there wouldn't be a bad thing, but you have great legs, so you should definitely keep the skirts. Just lose everything beneath them."

"Quinn!" Rachel said in shock.

"Oh my God! Not like that! I can't believe I said that. I mean, you could do that and that would almost certainly get you more attention…"

"But not the kind I want."

"Right. What I meant was lose the knee socks, the Mary Janes, the stripped tights."

"And wear what instead?" Rachel asked.

"Sensible heels if you can stand to walk in them all day, otherwise a normal pair of flats," Quinn responded.

"See I don't know what that means," Rachel responded, "I… I don't have a mother and until the last year or so I've never had any girlfriends, so I never really learned how to dress, and the ones I have now are obsessed with fashion and would try to dress me like some model in a magazine and I know that is simply not my style and I just…"

"Rach, do you want to go shopping for school clothes sometime this week?" Quinn asked cutting her off.

"Oh my God, yes! A world of yes!" the tiny diva said excitedly throwing her body against Quinn's hugging her fiercely. "Also, you wanted me to remind you to come back to the subject of Beth."

"Oh, right," Quinn said. "I'm going to see them for the first time next week. They've been away for most of the summer, but they're back now. I was wondering… do you talk to your mom, at all?" Rachel just shook her head. "Do you have any desire to?" Rachel didn't answer; instead her emotions played tug-o-war in her brain with the hurt Shelby had caused her at odds for her instinctive desire to have her mother in her life. "I'm going next Wednesday, the 10th, if you want to come with. You don't have to answer now."

Shortly after, the movie ended and Rachel and Quinn polled the room about what to watch next. The group found out that Sunshine had never seen any of the films of John Hughes so they watched _Pretty in Pink_ followed by _Sixteen Candles_ after which it was getting late so people began to take off for home. Rachel helped Quinn and Judy pick up and wash dishes. When they were done and everything had been squared away, Rachel looked around nervously and said, "I find I'm reluctant to leave, because it will mean that this amazing night is actually over, and I don't want this feeling to end. This has definitely been the best birthday ever. Thank you so much of all of this."

"You're welcome," Quinn smiled and said, "You want to stay? Sleep over, I mean. You can borrow some pajamas and we can go up to my room and watch _Funny Girl _on Netflix."

"Quinn, why didn't you tell me that you like _Funny Girl_?"

"Because I've never seen it," she replied.

Rachel's eyes went wide then a smile spread quickly across her face. "Well then, you my dear are in for a treat tonight."

**A/N: If any of you have ideas for things you'd like to see in this fic, I'd be happy to entertain ideas. I have a basic structure for where I'm planning to go with this story but there is lots of room for things to be added in. Review with your thoughts.**


	17. Shopping

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: More Faberry friendship here. I promise we will get back the Quartie that brought us all here next chapter.**

**Chapter 17**

**Shopping**

"Quinn, you seem distracted. Is there something on your mind, because if so I don't mind, in our new role as friends, listening if you need to get something off your chest," Rachel said. The offered shopping trip had been accepted and carried out two days after the party on Wednesday. Quinn had offered to skip yoga this week since she would be going solo since Brittany and Santana had rejoined the Cheerios and were at the two week torture fest known as Cheer Camp, but Rachel had insisted that maintaining one's exercise routine was absolutely imperative, especially in the wake of the mountain of junk food that had been consumed on Monday. Quinn had attempted to point out that she hadn't eaten much of it, but it was of no use. Rather than skip, she and Rachel went together and it turned that Rachel was in ridiculously good shape.

Afterwards they'd gone to Rachel's house, because it was closer, for showers, and then gone on with the shopping. Quinn had shown her many things to help her be more fashionable without necessarily completely changing her style which mostly just involved steering her away from argyle and plaid, and most of all animal designs. Rachel had picked up several new sweaters and tops, some new flats since she didn't feel she had the wherewithal to sport heels all day at school, and they'd hit the mother lode on flat colored skirts at Rue 21. They'd had a sale, 50% of already clearance prices, effectively that meant three to five dollars apiece, so Rachel found herself buying colors she never thought she would wear.

Through all of this, Rachel found herself repeating herself rather frequently. Quinn was very plainly distracted, hence the question and the offer to listen. Ironically enough, Quinn was too distracted to have caught it. "I'm sorry, Rachel, what was that?"

They were in between stores and Rachel figured this to be the best place to get to the bottom of what was wrong with Quinn, so she pulled her to one of the courtesy benches forcing her to sit. "What's going on with you, Quinn? You're attention is clearly elsewhere."

"I'm sorry," she apologized reflexively.

"So talk to me," Rachel demanded.

Quinn wanted to change the subject, to get back to the shopping, but she could already tell that Rachel had taken a mind to talking about this and it would take longer and more effort to convince the girl to change the subject than it would to just address the issue, so she sighed and said, "Artie wants to take me out tomorrow night for our one month."

"You guys got together on the Fourth of July? Is that why you guys were so inseparable at Mercedes' pool party? That's terribly romantic."

"No," Quinn said, "we were still fighting it at that point, or at least, I was. Artie was being the most wonderful guy ever giving me time. Our first date was on the eighth which is Monday, the first day of football camp and he's going to be far too exhausted to celebrate then, and our weekends usually involve a lot of time spent with his whole family who I love, and he said he doesn't want to disrupt that so we're going tomorrow."

"Do we need to find you something to wear on your special occasion because believe I saw in the window the Dressbarn a dress that would suit you quite perfectly and have the added effect of reducing Artie to a drooling mess," Rachel said with a mischievous smile.

"It's not really about that, although I am now intrigued to see this dress," Quinn tried to smile but it never really reached her eyes.

"Then what's it about?" Rachel asked in an uncharacteristically concise manner.

"I just… I worry about whether or not we're going to make it as a couple," she said.

"WHAT?" Rachel asked a little too loudly, "Why? Two days ago I told you that I was jealous of the ease of your relationship and now you're not sure you going to make it, what happened between then and now?"

"It's this one month thing," Quinn said. "I don't really think one month is something really all that worthy of some big elaborate date. For whatever reason, celebrating one month seems childish to me, and I worry that he and I are two totally different places emotionally. I know I'm only a couple of months older than him but I have been forced to grow up a lot more than he has. I worry that he's maybe too immature, you know? "

"Certainly," Rachel replied, "so what are you doing on this big elaborate date?"

"We're going to Red Jack's, that new steakhouse in town."

"So you're just going to dinner?"

"I think so," said Quinn.

"Okay, Quinn, that's not a big elaborate date. That's just a date. Now correct me if I'm wrong but didn't Artie and Tina's relationship fall apart because he didn't prioritize her?" Quinn nodded. "So he's not making some huge deal, he's just making a gesture to say that your relationship is important to him." Quinn sat pretty much as she had been, tense and concerned and not speaking. "You're a smart girl, Quinn. If our GPAs are to be believed, you're smarter than I am, and you're certainly a lot more socially adept which can only lead me to believe that you knew all of this and thus it is not the crux of you consternation. If you don't wish to discuss this, Quinn, or even if don't wish to discuss it with me, you can just say so. I understand that our friendship is still rather new and you might not feel secure in entrusting me with personal things at this stage in our…"

"Sex," Quinn said softly, cutting off the brunette's ramble.

Rachel was quite for a long minute before starting again, "Did you already…"

Rachel didn't finish the question as Quinn shook her head answering, "No, but he's going to want to soon… and…"

"You don't want to have to tell him no? Is it that you want to say yes?" Rachel quizzed her.

"He… when we're together, when we…" Quinn trailed off and growled in frustration with herself. "God, I'm such a prude. I can't even talk about it… When we make out, when he holds me, I feel things that I've never felt before."

"Things like desire?" Rachel prompted.

"Yes," Quinn answered quickly. "I think, I think I _want_ to be with him, but that thought scares me."

"Understandable," Rachel said, "however, as much as I wish to be there for you, as it were, I'm not the person to talk to about this issue, nor do I think Brittany or Santana's council is the proper one to seek as their cavalier attitudes towards sex are anathema to our more reserved thoughts. Is there any way you can talk to your mother?"

"After being pregnant at 16, not a chance, I'll get the 'don't' speech and then there will be a truckload of condoms delivered the next day."

"Well," Rachel said, "then, maybe the person to have this discussion with is Artie. You see yourself as more grown up, more mature, then do the mature thing and talk to your boyfriend about your concerns and your insecurities about the prospects of your sexual congress."

"I don't want to send him mixed signals. If I tell him I want him but I'm not ready to actually go through with it, won't that…"

"Artie's not suddenly going to turn into Noah just because you tell him that you want him. This will probably not come as a shock to you but teenage boys have sex on the brain near constantly, thus Artie, as a teenage boy, has likely had thoughts about having sex with you on more than one occasion. It probably occurred to him the first time he kissed you and likely every time since, but he's never pressured you to do anything more than you were willing to, right?" Quinn shook her head emphatically. "Of course not, because he's Artie and because he cares a great deal about you and respects as a person. Talking about sex isn't going to change that."

"You're right," Quinn said, a small smile creeping across her lips. "Can we go look at the drool-inducing dress now?"

"Absolutely," Rachel responded with a smile of her own. The girls quickly made their way to the not too far away Dressbarn where Rachel pointed to a form fitting, black, knee length cocktail dress and said, "That one."

"Holy crap," said Quinn, "That is a hell of a dress."

"As I said, and it will look even better on you that on this mannequin. Come," Rachel said dragging Quinn by the arm. They rounded the corner into the store and Rachel made a direct line for the first store employee she could find to say, "My friend would like to try on the black dress in the window over here."

"Your _friend_ has excellent taste," said the girl who smiled at Rachel's enthusiasm. She led the girls over to the rack where the dresses were hanging. She retrieved the garment in two different sizes and handed them over. "Dressing rooms are just through there. Will your friend be needing shoes to go with it?"

"No," said Quinn, "I think I have the perfect ones for this."

"Very well," said the girl who Rachel noticed was named Leah, according to her name badge. "Let me know if there's anything I can help either of you with."

"Quinn?" Rachel said holding up a loose fitting, white scoop neck dress

"For you or for me?" Quinn replied.

"For me of course," the brunette, "we've already found you a dress."

"I like it," Quinn said simply.

"I concur," said Leah, "you have a dark enough complexion for a white dress."

Rachel and Quinn went to try on their respective dresses in neighboring dressing rooms. Quinn tried on the smaller of the two dresses first. It was a size smaller than she usually wore but this was the type of dress that was meant to be tight, to show off. "So I've made a decision," Rachel said.

Quinn could already tell the dress was too tight. "What's that?" she replied while shimmying back out.

"I'm going to break up with Finn," Rachel said.

"Well, that's your decision to make," Quinn said, sticking to her previous statement to stay out of it, "Do you know when?"

"He's due back in town this evening. Actually he should be back already and just as when he left I have received neither a phone call nor a text message to inform me of such," Rachel said, "but I digress. He's supposed to be back in town tonight. I believe I'll go talk to him. I don't want to do it over the phone. That seems so impersonal."

"Agreed," said Quinn as she slid into the bigger size and found it a much better fit. She heard Rachel's dressing room door click open and Quinn zipped the dress up as far as she could reach before stepping outside her dressing room as well. She hung the smaller dress on the outside of the door and said, "Zip me up?" to Rachel.

Rachel nodded, did as asked, and said, "You stunning, Quinn. I was right. He's going to be a complete drooling mess."

"This one no good?" asked Leah.

"Yeah, I might be able to squeeze myself into that but I have to be able sit down and eat… and, you know, breathe for my date." Quinn was having a bit of trouble getting a read on this Leah. She couldn't tell if she was flirting or just a helpful sales associate. "I'm going out for my one month and Rachel, here, thinks this will leave my boyfriend a drooling idiot."

"I believe you just might," Leah said evenly. "What about you Rachel? You have a hot date too?"

"No, this would be part of a wardrobe overhaul," Rachel said gesturing to the many other bags they had brought in with them. "I have…"

Quinn cut her off, "She's decided to disentangle herself from an unhappy relationship and we're out getting her some new clothes to celebrate."

"Really?" Leah said. Quinn caught the subtle excitement in her voice. "Well, I'm sorry and congratulations at the same time, I guess."

"Thank you. He's been a complete disappointment. It's definitely time for a change," Rachel said, completely oblivious to what was going on.

Rachel and Quinn went back into the dressing rooms and put their own clothes back on, and brought them back to check out. Quinn checked out first with the usual pleasantries. When Rachel offered up her dress, Leah said, "Good luck with finding your change. Be sure to come back and see me if I can be of any further use."

"Thank you, Leah. I certainly shall," Rachel replied accepting the bag.

When they got back to Quinn's car, as they were depositing their bags in the back seat, Quinn said, "So she was kind of cute."

"I suppose," Rachel replied. "Why do you mention it?" She opened the passenger side door and sat down.

Quinn scoffed and did likewise on the driver's side. "Because, dork. She was flirting with you."

"She was?" Rachel asked rather loudly for the small space. Quinn nodded. "Did I flirt back?" Again Quinn nodded. "Oh God! I have to go back and apologize to her."

"Why?"

"I don't wish to lead her on."

"Lead her on? Rach, she barely knows your first name. I doubt she's suddenly expecting candy and roses and a standing Friday date. You just flirted a little. No harm done."

"Are you sure?"

"Today a pretty girl flirted with her at work. For all you know, you just made her day." Quinn said. "Plus, now you know for certain that you have options other than Finn."

"Abruptly changing the subject," a blushing Rachel said, "I believe I'm going to decline your invitation to go with you to visit Shelby and Beth."

Quinn nodded and said, "Okay."

"I just don't feel as though there is anything else for me to say. I put myself out there for her, twice and she rejected me twice. If…"

"Rachel, it's fine," Quinn cut her off, "It was just an offer. You were never under any obligation to say yes. If you don't want to go, it's not a big deal."

"Thank you for offering, and I do expect you to take many dozens of pictures of that beautiful girl of yours so that I can see how she's progressing."

"Will do."

**A/N: This chapter was going to have the talked about date in it as well but it's already on the long-ish side and my weekend is going to be thoroughly occupied so I don't know when I'll actually get to sit down and write said date, so I wanted to get this out there before so as not to leave you guys hanging.**


	18. An Important Discussion

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: Sorry once again for the delays in publishing. I was struggling getting into this chapter and I got on a roll on another story, so I've been neglecting you guys and I apologize. Did anyone else catch in "The Purple Piano Project" where Artie missed having Quinn around? Yeah, I couldn't help but smile at that. Anyway, on with the story. As promised, all Quartie.**

**Chapter 18**

**An Important Discussion**

Artie was sitting at their table at Red Jack's waiting on Quinn. She'd called him this afternoon asking if she could meet him there. She had some last minute thing she had to do for her mother. Artie had offered to postpone their date but she said that wasn't necessary. She said she would just be a few minutes later than the agreed upon 7:00, but at 7:12 she was more than a few minutes late. This after she'd called him yesterday to tell him about a new dress she'd picked up and could they "dress up a little" for their date tonight. Artie thought it was all kind of odd but he tried not to worry too much. He was just fishing his phone out to call her when he caught sight of her walking in… and man, did she walk in.

Quinn Fabray had long since been able to convey her emotion through her posture and body language. She'd ruled the school for years with a stone cold don't-fuck-with-me look, the quirk of an impeccably groomed eyebrow, and the swish of her hips in her Cheerios uniform. Artie had no idea if this ability was something that was taught at cheerleading camp or if it was some natural gift or a combination of both, but Quinn possessed it in spades and she was working it tonight. However, tonight instead of fear, she was putting off a radiant sexy vibe. She was wearing what Artie would describe as the most amazing dress ever. He'd seen her wear some form fitting stuff in their summer together but this was something else. He couldn't describe the dress like Kurt could but he knew what he liked about it. It was black and short, stopping just above the knee, and it clung to everything, her waist, her hips, her butt, her thighs… everything.

Quinn stood at the entrance and scanned the room before finally finding Artie waiting on her. He was wearing the black silk shirt that she'd seen in his closet a couple of times but she'd never seen him wear. His sleeves were rolled up which she appreciated since she'd grown rather fond of her arms. She gave him a big smile and a small wave as she walked… or more accurately strutted over to their table. She could plainly see that he was transfixed with her every movement and made a mental note to thank Rachel for finding her the dress. "Hello, my prince," she said as she made a show of leaning over to give him a kiss, "you look very nice tonight. I think dressing up was a good idea on my part," she continued as she sat down.

"Y… I… uh… I… I… I…" Artie was clearly having trouble finding words. Quinn was smiling brightly and biting her lip to keep from laughing at him until Artie started laughing at himself, then Quinn joined in. Finally after a minute he managed to say, "You and that dress… beyond words. You look absolutely amazing."

"Thank you, kind sir," Quinn said.

"And your hair's different. You dyed it again, and did you get it cut or is it just styled differently?"

Quinn's smile grew just a little more. She'd never dated anyone who had paid that much attention to her to notice small changes in her appearance and quite frankly she was proud of Artie for being able to tear his eyes away from the dress. "I did get it trimmed, and dyed it a couple shades darker to go with the dress better. Thank you for noticing."

"No need to thank me, beautiful. That's my job."

"Beautiful?" Quinn questioned.

"Yeah, you've been calling me prince for weeks now. It's time I came up with some sort of pet name for you, right? And all the traditional ones like 'sweetie' and 'honey' don't really seem fitting with you. 'Babe' I figured would give you Finn flashbacks," Quinn smiled and nodded at that. Their waiter came and took their drink orders, and when he was gone Artie continued his explanation, "I'd thought about going with something a little more exotic like 'bella' which is Spanish for beautiful…"

"But Twilight has ruined that name forever," Quinn finished for him.

"At least for the foreseeable future, yes, and besides you aren't really exotic anyway. You're a classic beauty, so I decided to just go with beautiful since it accurately describes you, inside and out," Artie concluded.

"Pfft, whatever," Quinn dismissed, "On the outside, maybe, because I made myself that way."

"But you've made yourself beautiful on the inside, too… or as I suspect is more accurate, you've allowed your own natural inner beauty to re-assert itself," Artie argued. "I mean you weren't horrible and mean to people when you were Lucy, right?"

"No," Quinn replied.

"So, see, the real you, call it Lucy, call it New Quinn, is a beautiful, wonderful person inside and out. A person who threw together a pretty awesome birthday party on an hour's notice for someone she was just barely friends with."

"That doesn't count. I owed her that much," Quinn countered.

"So you did it out of guilt? Bad people generally don't feel guilty, Quinn," He said. She still looked unconvinced, so he changed tactics, "How about the girl that walked into the Lima Bean two month ago and found the little broken pieces of Artie Abrams and put him back together even though she was supposed to be on a date with another guy. You didn't owe me anything that day, Quinn. You just sat with me and talked me through a bad day, and it was my last bad day because of you… beautiful."

Quinn's smile returned as she said, "Okay, then I accept your pet name for me."

"Good," he responded quickly.

"That's what today is, isn't it?" Quinn asked. "This isn't about our One Month. It's two months to the day since the coffee shop isn't it?"

Artie smiled, "I thought you might think it was silly but… I don't know. That day was really important to me. It was the day I really started to get over Brittany, in earnest. It was the day you and I became friends, you know, _real_ friends," Quinn nodded, she knew what he meant, "which was the beginning of us becoming this, so…" He trailed off and gave a small shrug.

"It's an important day to me too, Artie. You know that you were the first person who's never had any expectations of me? That's always just accepted me for who I am even when who I am is changing. Everyone else has at least some notion of who or what I'm supposed to be. You just let me be me and let me find out who I am and who I want to be."

"Well, I try not to make the same mistake twice," Artie said "and I made that one with Tina, trying to tell her how to dress and how to be. I don't even remember why I did it. Whatever it was, it was stupid."

Their waiter returned with their drinks and quickly took their food orders. Once he was gone, Quinn shrugged her shoulders, "You're learning from your mistakes, that's more than most people can say. I couldn't say it about myself until very recently. I mean, even after we began our thing, I still ran off to Columbus for two weeks. That's what I always do, run away from my problems. I usually don't do it quite so literally. And that dovetails nicely since there's something I need to not run away from. Can we talk about something serious?"

"Is everything okay?" Artie asked suddenly very concerned.

"Everything is fine. There's just something that we as a couple need to discuss."

"O... kay," Artie was very obviously confused. He was pretty sure that he hadn't done anything wrong. Quinn's birthday was still a month away, they were out celebrating their anniversary, he'd noticed her haircut and mentioned it, and of course, he'd noticed her new dress. A blindfolded Stevie Wonder would have noticed that dress. He had no idea what he could have done wrong to warrant needing to have some serious discussion. "What's up?"

"Sex," Quinn said matter-of-factly. Artie, in a million years' contemplation, would not have been expecting that response. He nearly choked on his water. "It's on your mind. You've been thinking about it."

"Well, yeah," he said, "but in fairness to me, you did just walk in wearing _that_ dress."

Quinn smiled and him and said, "I mean more in general. We've been together for a while and we were getting into some fairly intimate moments even before that, and I imagine that by this point or probably even before in your relationship with Brittany, you guys were probably going at it pretty rigorously."

"Wow, I cannot imagine a more uncomfortable conversation to have with my girlfriend on our One Month than the intimate details of my sex life with my ex," Artie responded.

"I know, and relax, okay? I'm not trying to start a fight or accuse you of anything. For the record, you aren't the only one in this relationship whose thoughts have turned carnal. The difference being is that my thoughts make me uncomfortable which is why we need to have this conversation, embarrassing as it may be for everyone involved." Quinn could tell Artie was still confused about why they were having this discussion so she decided to switch tracks. "Okay, I'm not saying this right. Let me start again. I know I was kind of resistant to us being us… you know, dating as opposed to just friends, but now that we have, I'm _so_ glad that we did. You make me so happy. I've laughed more this summer than I have my whole life, by probably a factor of ten or maybe even a hundred. We're such a good match for each other. It's only been a month, or two depending on how you look at it, but already we complete each other's sentences and read each other's minds. My God, you get me to talk about myself, which I never do. I open up to you, which I also never do. You can ask Finn or Sam how well they really knew me, I'm sure their answer would mostly likely be not really. I'm falling hard for you, Artie, and for once, that's not a scary feeling. I want us to work long term, and because I can read your mind, I'm pretty sure you do too, so that means we have to be a little more grown up about our relationship and talk about awkward stuff like our future sex life so that we don't end up in fights over stupid things that are really about bigger issues that we haven't talked about and don't know how to talk about."

"Okay, I get what you're saying now. I am prepared for the awkward," Artie said.

"Alright, I'll go first then, and awkwardly admit that I have sexual feelings for you. When we kiss and cuddle and all these intimate things, there's a part of me that wants to do more, and… and that's new for me, which means it's more than a little scary for me. Then there's the inescapable fact that we have diametrically opposing sexual histories. When I asked about you and Brittany, I wasn't asking for details. I wasn't even asking, really. I know Brittany. I know her attitude about sex and her enthusiasm for it. You guys were together for months, most of last year, in fact. You undoubtedly had plenty of very enjoyable encounters. Whereas, I've had sex exactly one time, in which I just laid there the whole time, didn't enjoy it even for a second, and wound up pregnant. Factor in the fact that I've only ever just laid there with you pretty much having to be on bottom, and functionally, I don't even know _how_ to have sex with you. All of that adds up to Quinn's not ready for this."

"I understand," Artie said with his trademark smile.

"Are you sure?" Quinn wanted to be certain.

"I do," he reiterated, "I completely understand where you're coming from. You have to be ready. I wasn't the first time. I was still hurting from my break-up with Tina. Brittany and I were working on the duets assignment together and she suggested that do it to help me get over Tina, and I wanted to feel anything other than the hurt and I was mad at myself afterwards and took it out on her, and nearly missed out on our whole relationship because of it. And without getting into too many details, our later encounters, as you call them, were much more enjoyable than early on because we, you know, we cared about each other, loved each other. As Brittany is fond of saying, it's better with feelings, so I don't mind waiting."

Quinn smiled back at him. "Artie, you really are a prince. I really am lucky to have such an understanding boyfriend."

"You really are," he replied teasingly.

"Just a couple more topics of serious discussion and then we can just enjoy our date, nothing as embarrassing as all that, though, I promise."

"Hit me," he said.

"Okay, topic number two: school is coming up pretty quickly."

"Right."

"When we get back there… I'm kind of a reserved person, emotionally. That's the way I was raised, and I'm working on breaking that, but it takes time. As I said, you have that certain something that makes me open up to you but it's rare for me to do that. I pretty much only do it with you… and for some reason, Rachel. I don't know why, but that's beside my point. When we get back to school, you may see a different side of me, a more reserved side. I'm not going to revert to Old Quinn the ice bitch or anything, and when we're out of school, at home or out together, I'll definitely still be this Quinn, your Quinn, but at school, I'll probably be just a little bit quieter, a little bit more stand-offish. I just want you to remember that it's not your fault. It doesn't mean I'm angry with you. It's just going to be a while before I'm comfortable enough to be your Quinn everywhere, all the time."

"Understood, thanks for telling me, because I would have worried. I'll try not to, now."

"Good. That would leave subject number three. I'm going to see Beth on Wednesday and I was wondering if you wanted to come meet my daughter with me?"

"Quinn, I would love nothing more than to do that, but I can't on Wednesday. I have football camp during the day and we're shooting Mike's birthday video for Tina on Wednesday and Thursday night. There's too much involved to even think about re-scheduling."

"Oh, of course," Quinn said.

"Besides," Artie continued, "shouldn't you meet her for the first time on your own? I mean that way you can really take your time and get to know her and be with her and play with her, not having to worry anyone else's timetable. I'll be happy to go with you any other time you like, but I really think this should be just your time."

"You're right," Quinn said, "of course, you're right. When aren't you? I think… I think I'm just scared, Artie."

He took her hand in his. "Talk to me," he said calmly, "What are you scared of?"

"A lot of it is the same old stuff. You've talked me through a couple of my bad days. Intellectually, I understand that I did right by her, but that doesn't stop my emotions from making me feel otherwise. What if she doesn't like me? I mean, she's going to know that I gave her away. What if… what if she hates me?" Quinn asked suddenly near tears.

"Hey, come on now," Artie said rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand to soothe her, "First of all, she one. She couldn't hate you even if she wanted to. She doesn't know how. Secondly, she wouldn't hate you if she could because, if you allow for her to know that you gave her away, then you have to allow for knowing that you did it because you love her and want what is best for her. Now there is a slim chance that she won't take to you right away. Some babies are skittish of people they don't recognize but based on the way you are with Alexis, I'd say that is extremely unlikely. Either way, it won't last. You keep going back, she'll come to recognize you and she'll warm up to you."

Quinn squeezed his hand with all of her might and said, "My Prince Charming, you always know what to say."

"I try," he said.

"So I have a small confession to make before we move on to lighter conversation."

"Okay."

A sly grin stretched over her face, "I didn't really have any errands to run this evening. I just wanted you here ahead of me so that I could make that entrance."


	19. Baby Steps

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: Almost a month since I updated? I know, I suck times infinity. "You Can Do Better" has been dominating my attention for a while now. I was feeling like I was running out of steam on this story, so I had been lax in publishing to begin with and then I started to get burned out on writing. I'd been writing more or less nonstop since I started publishing here in mid-May, so I had to take some time off, so I didn't write a single word for two weeks. Then it took me almost a week to get back into the swing of things and had to write something else to break my writer's block. It was this whole big thing. A million profuse apologies loyal readers… if in fact any such person still exists.**

**Chapter 19**

**Baby Steps**

"Hey Artie," Mike said, "before we go out there and you turn into hard-ass Coach Abrams again, I know we went over this on the phone, but is everything set for tonight?"

"It's all covered, dude. No worries."

"Thanks, dude. Sorry to be a pain about it, but I kind of sucked last year on Tina's birthday. We hadn't been together very long and I didn't know what to do so I went small and bought her a journal which she said was nice but y'know, you could see in her eyes that she was disappointed and I know this is probably hugely overkill and…"

"Hey," Artie cut him off, "overkill is underrated, if you ask me."

"Hell, yes, dude," Mike said as he and Artie high fived each other. The Mike's eyes went wide. "Dude, we're totally The A-Team! You're Hannibal, the planning genius. Puck's B.A. because… do I even need to explain it? Sam, the pretty boy, ladies man is Face."

"Which makes you Howling Mad Murdoch," Artie said.

"And that fits," Mike said, "because I had the crazy idea to make a music video for my girlfriend even though we had no budget and I had no idea what was even required to do it, and yet here we are thanks to your crazy planning skills."

Artie smirked, "From now on you don't have to call me Coach Abrams out on the field, you can call me Colonel Abrams, although if Coach hears you, you might want to call her General Bieste."

"Sir, yes, sir," said Mike saluting The Colonel.

"Hey, Mike," Sam said as he wandered up, "Ar... uh, Coach can I talk to you for a minute?"

"It's not Coach, it's Colonel Abrams," Artie corrected.

"We're The A-Team, us and Puck. Artie's Hannibal."

"So which one of us is Faceman?" Sam asked.

"Oh, I don't know, who here had two prom dates?" Mike replied.

Sam smiled his gigantic smile, "Awesome. Well I need to talk to The Colonel. Can you go figure out how to make napalm burgers?"

"Next cookout, Dude," Mike said as he turned to walk away.

"What's up?"

"So my folks have jobs but they aren't great jobs. They aren't going to be able to pay for college and I really don't want to be that guy that peaks in high school. My grades aren't going to get me where I want to go, so I need a scholarship, which means I've got to step up and get a chance to shine. I have Cedes helping me with my singing and Mike teaching me how to dance. Another year at second string QB isn't going to cut it. I'm not going to be able to take the starting slot from Finn, so I want to try for Running Back."

"Okay," Artie responded, "Firstly, I'm defensive coordinator so why are you telling me this? Secondly, we're a passing team. Mike and Munoz are unstoppable receivers. Finn's great with the long yard passes. I don't think Coach wants to deviate from that too much."

"Coach doesn't want to deviate from it because she doesn't have a Running Back worth the effort, plus we're state champs so everyone's going to be gunning for us. Everyone's going to be prepared for us, and our passing game. If they can shut that down or even slow it down, they stand a really good chance of winning, so we should have a ground game to go with it. I can do it. I've been busting my ass all summer running, running, running. I've got good times. I mean, I'm no Emmitt Smith or Chris Johnson yet, but I can do it for us."

"No offense, Sam," Artie said seriously, "but Running Backs get hit on virtually every play. You dislocated your shoulder last year, pretty badly from what I understand it."

"I already talked to my physical therapist," Sam said, "She said that hit was a one in a million chance. The odds of it happening again are astronomical. Coach… Artie, all I'm asking for here is a chance." Artie smiled at his friend. Sam smiled back. An hour later, when he was hit hard and knocked to the ground for the fiftieth time Sam wasn't smiling anymore, but he was still happy.

**X X X X X**

Quinn was nervous, more nervous than she'd ever been. She sat driving in her car silently going over everything that Artie had said to reassure her about this meeting but for whatever reason it wasn't helping. She was still filled with anxiety and dread over the prospect of seeing the child that she gave up a year ago. Realistically she knew that Beth didn't even have the capacity to hold a grudge. Realistically she knew that Beth was better off with Shelby than with her. Realistically she knew she was too young to be a mother at 16, that she was still too young to be a mother at almost 18. However, intellectual understanding, at least in this case, couldn't hold a candle to maternal instincts. Her instincts told her that Beth was her responsibility and that she was a bad mother for giving her up, that Beth should be with her for her to raise, and that Beth should and probably did hate Quinn for giving her up. She couldn't explain why she felt that way just that she did.

About thirty minutes before Quinn was due to arrive at Shelby's in Carmel, Quinn got a text message. Quinn was never one to mess with her phone while driving, mostly in response to how Santana drives which is to do everything else but pay attention to the road. She thought about who would be texting her and why and whether it was worth messing with. Her mother, Artie, Rachel, and Santana all knew what today was and where she was going. Through Santana, Brittany would also know. Through Rachel, Kurt and Mercedes would know. Through Artie, Quinn knew that Sam, Mike, Puck, and Finn would all be at football practice. The sound the phone made meant that it was a text message rather than an e-mail, so it was unlikely to be Mr. Schuester or Miss Runyon. There was one person for whom she would mess with the phone while driving, and she was trying to think of anyone else it might be. Who else had her number? Tina? She and Tina barely said three words to each other that weren't Glee related. Lauren? Pretty much the same deal, their slight bonding at the end of last year notwithstanding. Blaine and Sunshine, as far as Quinn knew they didn't know her number. Kirby? Haaroon? She'd pretty much disabused the News Team of the idea that she was somehow the site's editor and most business flowed through Miss Runyon now. She supposed it was possible that it was Kira. They had been communicating pretty regularly since her trip to Columbus two months previous. Something told Quinn otherwise though, so against her better judgment, Quinn fished her phone out of her purse and glanced at the screen. Much as she had suspected, it was from that one person she'd mess with the phone for, Shelby Corcoran.

Quinn opened the message, read it, and went white as a sheet. It said, 'Quinn, when you get here, I won't be able to get to the door. Just knock so I know it's you and come it. It will be unlocked.' Quinn's brain went massively into overdrive. What could be going on that Shelby couldn't get to the door. Was Beth sick, and if so why were they still home and not at the hospital? Had they already been to the hospital and Beth was just too much of a handful to let Shelby get to the door? "Relax, Quinn," she said aloud to herself. Maybe it's not as bad as all that, maybe Beth is just being fussy and Shelby's busy trying to keep her calm. Of course, then Quinn worried that she was going to spend her entire first visit with her daughter staring at her as she fusses and cries and she wouldn't know what to do to help her and she'd have to leave it all on Shelby to deal with, which of course would only make her feel even more like a failure, even more useless. "First things first," she said again, "Get there, and see what's up. Then and only then are you allowed to stress about it, Fabray."

Quinn gave it a little more gas, risking a ticket for speeding, to get there as soon as mechanically possible, because she would be damned if she would sit idly by while her child was in need. She may have no clue as to what the hell to do, but she'd damn well figure it out as she went. Wasn't that more or less what all parents did, after all?

Her acceleration paid off, or at least in Quinn's mind it did. She shaved off more than seven minutes from her expected arrival time. Quinn had been concerned at her ability to find the place but turn-by-turn navigation on the borrowed navigation system made it no problem whatsoever.

Pulling into Shelby's driveway, Quinn slammed the car into park even before it had come to a complete stop causing her to pitch forward and the seatbelt to go tight against her shoulder, narrowly avoiding slamming her face into the steering wheel. "Slow down, Quinn, you killing yourself won't help Beth." She took a calming breath, cut the engine, grabbed her bag, and made her way quickly up the walk.

She knocked twice quickly and then reached for the knob of the front door. She momentarily had a flashback to letting herself into Artie's house but scoffed at the notion of Shelby expecting her to climb in a window. The knob turned easily and she pushed the door open, "Shelby?"

"In here, Quinn." That was definitely Shelby's voice coming from directly ahead of her. "Hurry!"

Now all of Quinn worst fears on the way over were back with a vengeance. She sprinted down the short hallway to the family room beyond. "Is everything okay?" she asked. She quickly scanned the room to find Shelby on her knees pointing a video camera at Beth who was standing holding on to the couch shuffling along its length.

"Get your camera," Shelby prompted. Quinn complied. "I didn't mean to scare you. We're both fine. I sent you that message because I think you picked a great day to come see us. I think today is the day she's finally going to let go and start walking. Didn't want to miss it."

"No way, really?" asked Quinn. She took several pictures in rapid succession. "Is she okay? Isn't she kind of old to not be walking?"

"She's at the outside edge of what's considered normal but I think she's had the ability to do it for a while now, she just hasn't let go. See if she'll come to you."

"She...she doesn't even know me," Quinn said.

"She does," Shelby said, "She heard your voice for months while you carried her and we have that video you made. Call her; see if she'll come to you."

Quinn walked up to within a couple of feet of the couch and knelt down. Beth looked at her and Quinn took another picture of her before setting the camera on the table behind her. She lined up the frame and set it on a repeating three second timer. The camera began clicking away as Quinn turned back to her daughter and reached a hand towards the miniature version of herself. "Beth, honey," she called out, "can you come see me? Can you to mama?" A moment later she realized what she said and looked to Shelby, "I mean..."

"It's okay, Quinn, you are her mama. You're allowed to refer to yourself as such." Quinn couldn't help but notice and smile at the similarity of speech pattern between Shelby and Rachel. "Call her sweet angel. She usually like when I call her that."

Quinn looked back at Beth who was staring back at Quinn with a big grin on her face. "Oh dear God, that smile is all Noah Puckerman. We are in so much trouble." Quinn smiled at the toddler and said, "Hey Sweet Angel, can you come give me a hug? Please, I'd really love it if I could have a big old Beth hug." Beth dropped her grin suddenly looking deep in thought. "Come on," Quinn encouraged her waving her hands towards herself. The little girl stuck the tip of her tongue between her lips and looked down at her feet in concentration. "You can do it, baby girl. Mommy believes in you." Quinn rocked back to sit flat on her butt and then spread her arms and legs wide to invite the little girl in to her.

Beth very slowly turned her body to face away from the couch, towards Quinn, but still keeping her balance against the couch. She let go with one hand and reached towards Quinn. Quinn shook her head. "Nope, sorry, you have to come see me." Quinn motioned towards herself once more. Looking back down Beth inched her right foot forward and let go of the couch. Beth was officially standing by herself and Quinn clapped for her. "Good girl," Quinn said with a huge smile, "now keep going. I've got big hugs waiting on you when you get here." Very, very slowly Beth picked up her left foot up and moved it forward setting it back down very quickly. Quinn's camera kept clicking away as Beth slowly decided she could do this walking thing and repeated the process with her right foot. Quinn's smile grew impossibly bigger with each progressive step. Only a moment later Beth was wrapping her little arms around Quinn as best she could. Quinn quickly wrapped the little girl up tightly in her arms. The tears of a proud mother streaked her face. "Hi, baby," Quinn whispered, "Do you remember me? I'm your other mommy. I love you so much sweetheart. I'm so sorry it took me so long to come see you. I'll never go this long without coming to see you again, Sweet Angel, I promise."

"Mama," the little girl said.

Quinn's breath caught in her throat. She uncoiled from around Beth and said, "You want to go see your mama?" She gestured towards Shelby with the video camera trained on the two of them. Beth shook her head. "You don't?"

"Quinn, she doesn't call me mama," Shelby clarified, "she calls me mommy. She's talking about you."

"Are you talking about me, sweetie?" Quinn asked Beth. The little girl nodded. Quinn pulled her feet in to sit cross-legged. She gently patted her thighs, "You want to sit?" Beth flopped down into Quinn's lap and leaned into her abdomen. Quinn instinctively wrapped an arm around her daughter and held her tight. With the other arm, she pointed towards Shelby and said, "Can you wave?" Quinn showed her how and Beth mimicked her mother's actions. "Can you say 'Hi, Mommy'?" Beth didn't comply, so Quinn repeated, "Hi, Mommy."

"Book," Beth said.

"Book?" Quinn questioned, "You want Mama to read to you?" Beth nodded as Shelby shut off the video camera and got up to walk across the room to a packed bookshelf.

"She loves being read to," the brunette said, "Honestly, I'm surprised it took her this long to ask." She retrieved a couple of Beth's favorites and walked back to the girls to drop off the reading material. She grabbed Quinn's camera and moved it across the room to get a better angle of them reading together. "Has this thing got plenty of memory?"

"There's a 32 gigabyte memory card in it that was empty when I got here, so we should be good for several thousand pictures, and I brought my laptop so I can always upload them and erase if it becomes an issue," Quinn said. Shelby smiled at the level of Quinn's preparedness. The pink haired girl retrieved the first book on the stack while Shelby turned the video camera on the girl and her daughter. "Hop on Pop," Quinn read. "What a great book for you, Beth. You be sure to hop on your pop any chance you get."

**X X X X X**

Five books, two hours of playing with all of Beth's favorite toys, and a few thousand pictures later it was naptime, and Beth crashed hard, out like a light in an instant. Her mothers retired to the kitchen for coffee. Shelby brewed while Quinn started uploading pictures onto her computer to go through them. "I still can't believe I got to see her first steps. That was completely amazing."

Shelby smiled at Quinn's enthusiasm, "I think she was waiting on you to get here." Quinn smiled at this as she flipped through pictures on her laptop. "Can I ask you something, Quinn?"

"Of course," Quinn said.

"You were so prepared for this visit, so enthusiastic about it. Why did it take you a year to want to come? Not that you were under any obligation to, but when we were working out the details of the adoption, I remember you were really happy when I insisted it be an open adoption and that you and Noah should come to visit her."

"I was?" asked Quinn. "I don't even remember that conversation at all. So much of that whole week is a huge blur. I remember us performing at Regionals and then my mom was backstage and then it was a week later and Mr. Schuester was telling us that our club got another year. In between I have bits and pieces, giving birth, obviously, agreeing to have you adopt Beth, singing a goodbye song with the club, and at some point I moved home. The reason it took me a year to want to come see her is because that's how long it took me to get into a conversation where someone informed me that I was allowed to come see her."

"Noah didn't tell you he comes over all the time?"

"He and I don't talk that much," Quinn said, "We're not still together. We never really were to be honest with you. It was a friend of his, my boyfriend, Artie Abrams that mentioned it. Oh, Artie! I want to send him the video of her first steps. He will love it." Quinn set about uploading the video off of Shelby's camcorder. When it was up, she quickly fired it off as an e-mail attachment. She quickly followed that by texting him a picture of Beth and her reading. Then she sent him a text that said, 'She called me mama. I thought I was going to die. : )'

"I'm sure Noah will be glad to see that," Shelby said.

"Oh my God, Puck, yeah, I didn't even think about him. I just sent it to Artie. Rachel will want to see it too. Oh yeah, and my mom," Quinn said as she went about e-mailing the video to them as well. "Brittany, Mercedes, Kurt," she muttered to herself.

"Rachel?" questioned Shelby. Quinn looked up at the older woman, "Are you and she… friends?"

"We've just made friends this summer, why?"

"I've got something for her, from my family, my sister. I was just going to mail it or give it to Noah. Rachel has an Aunt Rebecca, an Uncle Lucas, and a pair of twin nine year old cousins, Elliot and Olivia. They knew that Rachel would be 18 this summer and I could legally make contact with her and wanted me to give her this," Shelby set a thick manila envelope in front of Quinn, "They wanted her to know that they exist and I know the Berry's don't have much in the way of family so I thought it might be nice for Rachel to have some. I've pretty well ruined any shot I may have had with her but there's no reason why she can't have a relationship with them. I know Rachel has her heart set on going to New York after graduation. They live in upstate New York. Anyway, it's mostly pictures and letters and I think there's a belated birthday present in there."

"I will definitely give this to her, but Shelby, Rachel will give you another chance if you want to have a relationship with her. 'Everyone deserves a second chance' is her mantra. She's just waiting on you to want it."

"It's not that I don't want a relationship with her," Shelby said, "It's that I don't know how to have one with her. Every time either of us has tried, I've wound up hurting her and I won't keep doing that to her."

"I guess I get that," Quinn said as she rested her chin in her hand and sighed deeply as she flipped through the pictures on her computer, at the smiling face of her beautiful daughter. "I'm so glad I came here today. Not just because I got to see her first steps, though that was pretty huge, but because I've been carrying so much guilt over giving her up, now that I see how happy she is, I kind of feel like I made the right decision."

"Were you worried that I wasn't going to take care of her?" asked Shelby.

"No," Quinn replied quickly and without doubt, "honestly, that thought never even entered my mind. I just felt like she was my kid, so I should have been the one to raise her. I shouldn't have given her away, like… like…"

"You're not your mother, Quinn."

"Aren't I?" she asked.

"Quinn, your parents didn't give you up. They threw you out to live or die in the streets for all they cared. You gave Beth to me to make certain that _didn't _happen to her. You aren't them. You are pretty much the exact opposite of them." Quinn's hazel eyes quickly filled with tears that soon overwhelmed her and she was sobbing. Shelby laid her hand over Quinn's and said, "Let out, Quinn. Let it all go. The pain, the guilt, let it all go. You don't need to carry it anymore, because you love that little girl more than anything and now you know that she loves you, too."

After a few minutes, Quinn composed herself enough to mutter, "Thank you, Shelby."


	20. Big Steps

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: Kind of a short one this time, but I wanted to give my loyal readers something to make up for all the time I was off this story. Hope everyone likes.**

**Chapter 20**

**Big Steps**

Quinn didn't get home until late that night, but her mother was still waiting on her. It was only after she set her bag down in the family room that Quinn realized that she could barely remember the ninety minute drive back to Lima which was more than a little scary to think about. Quinn told her all about the visit and Beth's first steps and how they went to the park after the little girl's nap. She even told her mother about her emotional breakdown and subsequent revelation. They went through the highlights of the several thousand pictures that Quinn had taken and the hours of video footage of Quinn and Beth, Shelby and Beth, and Beth by herself.

An hour after getting home, Quinn dragged herself up the stairs to her bedroom ridding herself of her jacket and shoes on the way to the bed. She collapsed face first into her pillow meaning to only lay there for a minute before changing clothes for bed but after the physical and emotional exertion of the day she was just too exhausted to mess with getting back up. She fished her phone out of her pocket and plugged it in on her nightstand. The screen lit up as power returned to the formerly dead device. Quinn noticed that she had thirty unread text messages. She flipped through the list to find most of them were from Brittany, undoubtedly gushing over the baby pictures she's sent everyone. Pretty much everyone else had sent messages as well. Quinn opted to read them in the morning. Instead she speed dialed Artie and put it on speakerphone. He answered shortly, "Hey beautiful."

"Hello, my prince," she replied with a groggy voice.

"Heh, you sound tired," Artie said.

"Exhausted," Quinn confirmed.

"Why'd you call, then?"

"Wanted to hear your sexy voice," Quinn said.

Artie laughed, "So how was your girl?"

"She was amazing. I can't wait for you to meet her. You're going to love her. She's a complete book nerd, like us."

"I look forward to it," Artie said, "You know me and kids, right?"

"Yeah," Quinn said, "You're going to be an awesome dad."

"Thanks," he said. When the line stayed silent for a couple of minutes, Artie said, "Did you fall asleep on me?"

"Hmmm? Oh, no, not yet. Can I come by football camp tomorrow?"

"I don't see why not," Artie replied, "Any particular reason?"

"I need to take pictures for the sports reporting on The Wire… and also because I want to see you," Quinn replied.

"Aww, aren't you just so sweet? Aren't you going to be over Friday night for the last summer Pancake Day?"

"Of course I will," Quinn said, "but you know Pancake Day is always more about our family than about us. I just want to come by and see you and maybe watch you yell at our friends for slacking and…" Quinn's voice had been softening with ever word. She trailed off with a yawn and spoke no more.

"And she's out," Artie said into the phone even though he was pretty sure there was no one listening on the other end any longer. He mused briefly at Quinn referring to his family as 'our family' and couldn't help but smile at the thought. "Goodnight, beautiful."

**X X X X X**

Quinn was at football camp bright and early the next morning, and it was a good thing she just wanted to _see_ Artie because seeing was really all she got to do. From the minute The Titans hit the field they were a well trained war machine. Quinn couldn't help but be amused at the sight of Artie in his chair commanding a group of giant linebackers like a complete hard ass. All of them listened to him without question. What a difference a red windbreaker and a hat made. Some of them were the same guys who had nearly drown Artie in slushie last year necessitating the football team's temporarily joining the Glee Club, which had precipitated her quitting Cheerios, which more or less lead to her present. It's funny how things work out.

Quinn made her way up to the sidelines. She strode slowly but confidently up to the very intimidating Coach Bieste. "Coach Bieste," she said.

"Fabray," she said, "you here to report on my boys for this website thing?"

"Actually, I'm just taking the pictures. Santana Lopez will be in touch with you to do the story in a couple of days. She's the reporter, I'm just a photographer."

"Yeah, well, you're also my defensive coordinator's main squeeze, so make sure you keep yourself focused on your job," Coach replied. Quinn looked a little stunned that Coach Bieste knew about them. "Locker room talk, you hear things." There was silence between them for moment before Bieste spoke again, "Not like that. Abrams doesn't tell your business or anything like that."

"Okay," Quinn let go of the breath she'd been unconsciously holding. "I was about to have a heart attack there for a minute."

"Nah, you got a good one," Bieste clarified, "a real gentleman. Why he chooses to associate with these other mouth breathers, I'll never know but for my sake I'm glad he does. He's an asset to this team."

"I'm glad you think so," Quinn smiled with no small amount of pride. "I won't take up any more of your time, Coach." Bieste just gave her a small nod and Quinn walked away. No sooner had she left than she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She retrieved it and saw that she had a text from Artie. How he could text at seemingly the most impossible times was still a mystery to Quinn. The message read, 'Sam's been working his ass off this week. See if you can't get a few good shots of him, plz?'

They were running passing plays at the time so not much chance to help Sam there, but Quinn was nothing if not patient. She took pictures of the top rate offensive line blocking out, of the defense making holes in the line, of Mike Chang and Alejandro Munoz catching passes and evading the secondary. She hadn't set out to not spotlight Finn at quarterback. She honestly tried with him, but she just couldn't get a decent picture of him. Though she'd cheered at more games than she could count, Quinn had only come to appreciate football since she'd been with Artie, she still wouldn't say she was a fan of the sport, but at least she understood it now. And now that she understood, she realized that there was no grace to Finn's actions as quarterback, he just kind of heaved the ball and hoped that a receiver would get under it. No matter her intentions, Quinn and Quinn's camera couldn't make him not look like an ape.

After an hour or so they switched over to running plays and Quinn could see that Artie was absolutely right about Sam. The boy was playing his ass off out there. He'd get the hell knocked out of him on every play and every time he'd get right back up just as fast as he could, not even worry about brushing himself off, and go right back to formation. The Titans defense was good so most time Sam could only pick up a few yards, but on the few times he broke away, Sam was running like the devil was chasing him headed for the endzone until Coach Bieste blew her whistle at him. It wasn't really necessary. They weren't playing a scrimmage game; they were just running plays so the line wasn't moving. He was just trying to show that he took things seriously and that he could run should the situation present itself.

When Coach called for second string, Quinn went to leave, but Artie caught her as she was going to pack up her camera and asked her to stick around for just a few more minutes and catch just a few more pictures. Quinn wasn't really sure why but did it anyway. As it turned out, they hadn't found anyone to replace Sam at second string Quarterback, so he switched out his pads and took the field again. Quinn managed to get plenty of good shots of him as QB. There was energy and determination to Sam on the field that wasn't there with Finn and something told her that it wasn't just because there was a camera around.

Half an hour later, Coach called lunch which Quinn had hoped to spend with Artie but apparently there was a staff meeting that Artie had to go to. Quinn loaded up her gear and deposited it in her trunk before whipping out her phone making a phone call.

"Hallo," came the heavily accented voice of Haaroon Doorani.

"Haaroon, it's Quinn Fabray," she said.

"What can I do for you Quinn?"

"Can you explain to me about the social networking function of our website?"

"Of course," he said, "basically it works like this. Our website follows our Twitter accounts and anything and anything that you tag with WMHSWire pops up on our website's networking feed and gets sent to anyone who follows the site on Twitter."

"Simple enough," Quinn replied.

"Indeed, I am working on similar functions for Tumblr and Facebook but the code is considerably more complicated."

"And I was given to understand that you've been working your butt off keeping everything running smoothly," Quinn said.

"I have help, but yes, the site is experiencing a considerable amount of traffic. More than we had projected initially. It has made for a variety of issues, but rest assured it is under control."

"It's in good hands," Quinn said, "I'll talk to you later, Ha…"

"A thousand pardons for interrupting, Quinn, but I wish to ask you something whist I have you on the phone."

"Shoot," she said.

"How does one go about auditioning for the Glee Club?"

Quinn smiled and said, "Just show up with a song ready to go."

"Any song?"

"Yeah," she said, "well, not to sound racist or anything but you'd have a better shot at getting solos if your audition song was in English."

Haaroon chuckled, "Never fear, Quinn, I've lived in the US since I was four. I couldn't sing an Afghani song if my life depended on it."

"Sorry for being an ignorant white girl, and I'm glad you're interested in Glee, seeing as most of us are due to graduate this year."

"No worries, Quinn."

They hung up and Quinn pulled up her Twitter on her phone. She had no idea why Artie was taking such a vested interest in Sam, maybe it was just because they were friends. She didn't really care. Artie had asked for her help and he was damn well going to get it. Besides, Quinn still felt horribly for the way she'd treated Sam last year, so if it would help him at all, she happily played him up.

**Looking good out there Titans! SamEvans looks ready to pro! #WMHSTitans #WMHSWire**

**X X X X X**

When Quinn slipped onto the set of Artie and Mike's video shoot that night she couldn't help but feel like a stalker...or at the very least like one of those clingy, ridiculous girls that obsessed over their boyfriends. She tried very hard not to think of Rachel's name when this line of thought ran through her head.

Sporting a beanie hat to conceal her very distinctive hair color, she stood in the back and hid behind her camera, taking lots of pictures. She watched as Artie and Brittany went over the choreography and the blocking with the dancers for the shot they were setting up. Artie knew a lot about dancing even if he couldn't do all of it himself and he wasn't shy about telling the dancers if they were doing it wrong. Brittany was the opposite side of that coin, always encouraging, always upbeat. They made a good team. Between takes Artie would be forever inspecting the camera angle, making sure it was just what he thought it should be.

After more than an hour of observing, someone finally took note of Quinn as Mike made his way over to the snack table that was set up near where Quinn had been semi-hiding out. He grabbed a bottle of water and said, "Hey, Quinn, how long have you been lurking back here?"

"A little while now," she responded, "I just wanted to see him at work. He's been talking about this video since the Fourth. You guys look great, by the way."

"Thanks," Mike said, "Why didn't you come up and say anything?"

"Didn't want to distract him. I know this set-up can't have been cheap. I don't want you guys to run over or whatever because the director's girlfriend decided to show up and be a huge distraction. Besides I was kind of curious what he's like when I'm not around, or at least when he thinks I'm not around."

"And?"

"Pretty much the same, but I think he doesn't smile as much."

"I know he doesn't," Mike said smirking.

"MIKE," Artie bellowed, "We're ready over here."

Quinn quickly turned to face away from her boyfriend's searching eyes. "Don't tell him, I'm here," she said.

Mike just chuckled and shook his head at her. "Okay," he said, adding, "Whatever."

They went back to work on the video and Quinn sat back and watched. She watched in amazement at the talent of the dancers, at the professionalism of a group of high school kids making a music video like pros, she watched her friend coach dancers through an extremely elaborate routine like she had been doing it all of her life, and most of all she watched her boyfriend direct traffic amongst the couple dozen people on set and making it look easy, like it was the most natural thing in the world. He saw every errant shadow, every missed step. He made small adjustments to the smallest things that she never would have thought to make that wound up making huge differences.

A little over an hour and a half later, Artie called it a wrap, and the crew and the performers all whooped and hollered and cheered and high fived one another. Quinn made her way up to set stealthily and unceremoniously deposited herself onto Artie's lap and crashed her lips against his. Artie was reasonably sure of whom he was kissing but pried their bodies apart to confirm for certain. She just smiled at him wordlessly before kissing him again.

When they separated again, Artie said, "What are you doing here? When did you get here?"

"I got here a while ago. I sat back there watching you work and may I say that this assertive, in charge Artie is very sexy." Artie blushed at the comment, "As to what I'm doing here, I came because I wanted see all the work you've been putting in. I also came because I had something I really want to tell you but now I have two things to say."

"Okay," he said.

"The first thing is this is it, Artie."

"This is what?" asked Artie confused.

"At dinner with my mom, the first time I brought you over, you said you didn't know what you wanted to do with your life. Well this is it, Artie. You are such a natural at this and a blind man could see you were enjoying it. This is what you were born to do. I haven't even seen this video but there's no doubt in my mind that it will turn out amazing if you are even half as good an editor as you are a director. With this and Sylvester's Vogue video and maybe an original short or something, you could easily get into NYU's film school."

Artie's eyebrows shot up and his eyes bulged. "NYU? You… are you saying you want me to come to New York with you?"

"Oh, yeah… that was the other thing I wanted to tell you, the original thing," Quinn said locking eyes with him and smiling brightly, "I love you, Artie."

"You… I… I… I…" he stammered.

"It just hit me like a ton of bricks yesterday when I was meeting Beth and she started walking," Quinn said, cutting off Artie's stammering, "I wanted so much for you to have been there and to share it with me, and the first chance I got I couldn't wait to send you the video. I was so singly focused on sharing my happiness with you that Shelby had to remind me to send the video to Puck. I started to say it last night on the phone but it seemed entirely lame to say I love you for the first time on the phone, so I was going to plan some big date but school's back on Monday so the soonest we would be able make those plans would be next weekend. I knew I couldn't keep it in for the next seven days, especially considering how much we'll be around each other in those seven days."

Artie was still in shock, "I… I…"

"Artie," she said.

"I…"

Quinn broke him out of his stupor by once again kissing him for all he was worth. When he responded to the kiss, she broke it off and said, "Hey Artie, do me a favor please, and don't freak out about this." The tension of the situation broken, Artie laughed at the familiar words. "I know I sprung this on you out of the blue," she continued, "You don't have to say it back if you aren't ready. I promise it won't be a thing between us. I know, at the very least, that you care about me…"

"I do," he interjected.

"…and I'm fine with that for now. I just wanted you to know how I felt, and you've always been the one to move our relationship forward, so when I knew I was sure how I felt I wanted to be the first one to make this step."

He smiled, "Thanks, Quinn. Thanks for being cool about this."

**A/N: Something a cliffhanger, I know. I'm just cruel like that. So tell me what you think.**


	21. Back to School

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: So this one is long, about twice as long as most other chapters and just slightly shorter than the "Rachel' Birthday" chapter. I considered splitting it up but then I'd just be publishing two updates tonight instead of one. Didn't really see the point. Also, fair warning there is a whole bunch of angst in here, I promise my angstiness doesn't go on and on forever like some authors do, but it is there. As cute as they are together, Quartie can't be perfectly in synch all the time, and besides it's not all angst. Anyways, I'm just going on and on now. Thanks for reading/reviewing, hope you enjoy.**

**Chapter 21**

**Back to School**

By the time Monday rolled around, Quinn was worried that she'd made a mistake. Artie had been distant and weird all weekend. It wasn't anything he did specifically, more like things he didn't do. Mostly it was a matter of him not talking much. Generally, Artie was considered the undisputed king of word vomit, but now everything he said was perfunctory, short, and to the point.

He also didn't call her 'beautiful' at any point over the weekend. He was back to calling her by her name. It had only been a week and a half since he started it, but Quinn missed it. She missed it more than she ever thought she'd miss a silly pet name, and probably that was because she thought she was losing him.

She tried not to panic. She tried not to assume the worst of things. Maybe he wasn't pulling away; maybe he was just trying to process his feelings. She had just kind of unloaded on him emotionally without a word or a warning. Maybe he just needed some time and a little bit of space... not too much, of course, but just a little so he had the room to work out how he felt and not be all awkward around her anymore.

So after the most tense and uncomfortable Pancake Day all summer, Quinn scooped up her stuff and she and Alexis went to the park for a couple of hours. They had a blast playing and taking pictures of each other. When time came to return the little girl, Quinn made up an excuse to just drop her off and run but she got roped into promising to take her and Artie to school on Monday. Quinn decided that telling Alexis Abrams no was every bit as hard as telling Brittany no, borderline impossible. She just hoped that Monday wasn't the last time she got to see Alexis and the Abrams Clan. It had only been two months but Quinn already thought of them as family.

Saturday afternoon and all day Sunday Quinn discovered that while being around Artie when she didn't know what was going on in his head was frustrating, it was nothing compared to not being around him when she didn't know what was going on in his head. Stuck at her house without him, she realized just exactly how much of their relationship was non-verbal. She learned in those 36 hours how much just looking at Artie and having him grin at her would make her feel all warm inside, how his hand on hers or vice versa would calm her worries and make the outside world melt away, or how just a waggle of his eyebrows could make her giggle uncontrollably. Now she had none of that.

Sunday evening she found herself sitting in front of her laptop staring at his Facebook wall trying to think of something she could do to break the tension between them without seeming needy, clingy, or desperate. That last one was particularly difficult because she kind of _was_ desperate. She wound up just fixating on his profile picture. It was a picture of the two of them that Alexis had taken at Mercedes' pool party on the Fourth. She loved the picture. She was smiling, mid-laugh she recalled, and wrapped up in Artie's strong arms. Artie, of course, was smiling too. She clicked on the picture to see the full sized version. She looked the image of her boyfriend in his powerful blue eyes and said, "I can't lose you, Artie." A single tear escaped her eye and started to run down her cheek. She let it run while she took a deep breath to push her worries down. Sitting here worrying about it wasn't helping, she decided. It was time to come up with a plan to make _sure_ she didn't lose him. "Who's online?" she asked no one in particular. "Mike, Tina, Brittany, Mercedes, Rachel, Sunshine, Blaine, and Puck."

**Quinn:** Cedes, I may need your help with something, but it can't end up as gossip.

**Mercedes:** What's up, girl?

**Quinn:** Mercedes, you know I love you, but I need you to promise me that this stays between us. If we were face to face, I'd make you pinky swear.

**Mercedes:** Honey, it's in the vault, I swear. We'll lock digits first thing tomorrow morning if it will make you feel better. Now what's up?

**Quinn:** Thursday night I told Artie I love him. Totally sprung it on him. He wasn't ready to say it back and I think he's freaking about it. He's quiet and withdrawn. Doesn't look at me as much as he did.

**Mercedes:** You want me to slap him? Cuz I will. Wheelchair or no. j / k What can I do?

**Quinn:** I need you to reach out into your network of gossips and subtly figure out if and how I need to damage control. I can't stress the subtle part enough. If he gets wind of me airing our laundry to our friends, he might just go ahead and break up with me, and I can't lose him.

**Mercedes:** I feel you, sistah. Lemme see what I can find out. I'll hit you back when I know something.

**Quinn:** Thank you, Mercedes.

**Mercedes:** Love you, Girl. We'll figure this out. Just hang in there.

**Quinn:** Love you. Just please tread lightly.

**X X X X X**

**Quinn: **Hey, Rach, I may need your help with something. Not sure yet.

**Rachel:** If it is within my power to give, I am at your service. Might I enquire at the specifics so that I can begin working on solutions?

**Quinn:** I told Artie I love him on Thursday. Sprung it on him when he wasn't ready to say it back and now he's freaking out about it… or at least I think he is.

**Rachel:** Okay. I'm not sure how I can help with that, but if you have an idea, I'll help in whatever capacity I can.

**Quinn:** I was thinking that I should do something for him in Glee Club. Something that says, you know that I'm happy with where we are please don't pull away from me. Can you maybe compile a short list.

**Rachel:** Of course!

**Quinn:** Something…

**Rachel:** Quinn?

**Quinn:** I don't want to do anything Top 40, bubble gum pop like I've always done in the past. Find me something that challenges me, something out of my wheelhouse. Hopefully, he'll see how hard I'm trying.

**Rachel:** That is an EXCELLENT idea Quinn. Although I wouldn't classify James Brown as either Top 40 or Bubble Gum, I do take your meaning. I think I may e-mail Mr. Schuester about making this the assignment of the week, giving due credit to you of course.

**Quinn:** Knock yourself out.

**Rachel:** May I point out something positive in this situation that may serve as a ray of sunshine amongst all the clouds?

**Quinn:** Uh, PLEASE!

**Rachel:** It's been four days and Artie's relationship status on Facebook still says "in a relationship with Quinn Fabray." He's not "single" nor has he opted for the ominous "It's Complicated." He's in a relationship with you.

**Quinn:** That actually helps quite a bit. Thanks, Rach.

**Rachel:** Of course, you're quite welcome.

**Quinn:** How's Finn dealing with being dumped?

**Rachel: **Suffice to say not well, and that I'd rather stick to helping you with your problems for the moment.

**Quinn:** Fair enough.

**Rachel:** I'll have you a list in the morning. We can work on it at lunch or after school, if you'd like. My dads have been after me to have you over anyway.

**Quinn:** Thank you, Rachel. I'll let you know.

**X X X X X**

**Quinn:** Hey Mike, so you probably know Artie and I have hit something of a rough patch and I know it would be a gross violation of the Bro Code for you to talk to me about anything that Artie may have told you, so I won't ask. I just wanted to ask you if he does talk to you about anything, if you would just tell him that I talked to you and that I want to do anything I can to make us be okay again. I really, really want us to work. Can you do that for me please?

**Mike:** Sure, Quinn.

**Quinn:** And if you don't mind too much could you make me sound less desperate than I did just then? I mean, I know I kind of am, but I just don't want to screw us up.

**Mike:** I got your back. : )

**Quinn:** Really?

**Mike:** Yeah. Artie's my best friend and I want him to be happy. You make him really happy, and that's not breaking the code because that's just something I see with my very own eyes. I'm totally Team Quartie.

**Quinn:** Thanks, Mike. That's really good to hear.

**Mike:** No problem, and don't worry about this thing too much, okay? I wish I could say more, but like you said Bro Code.

**Quinn:** I understand, thanks, Mike.

**X X X X X**

**Mercedes:** I ain't hearing a think, Q. If the boy's talkin it's to someone not in my network and you know that ain't many people.

**Quinn:** Thanks, Cedes. I appreciate you asking for me.

**Mercedes:** Please, Girl. That wasn't nothin.

**Quinn:** So Rachel's helping me with a song for him for Glee, making a list. You want to join us?

**Mercedes:** Just let me know what you need.

**X X X X X**

After all her networking, Quinn went to bed Sunday feeling okay about the situation, not as good as she would have liked, but with enough peace of mind to at least fall asleep. She woke up Monday with a smile...and a little sweaty. She didn't remember what she dreamed about but she knew it had to have been nice because she was smiling at 6 am even before her first cup of coffee and that never happened. She quickly showered and got dressed for school. Her mom had her travel mug full of coffee and ready for her on her way out the door. She grabbed her bag, keys, and coffee, said her goodbyes and was out the door.

When she arrived at the Abrams house a few minutes later, she was met with a surprise, a pair of them, actually. The first was that instead of her usual dress or other little kid clothes, Alexis was dressed in a Beatles t-shirt, jeans, and dress shoes. She had in a pair of small hoop earrings and she was wearing the charm bracelet Quinn bought her in Columbus. In short, she was dressed like Quinn. The other surprise was that Artie had already gone to football practice.

The plans made Saturday were that Quinn would pick up Artie and Alexis, they would drop Artie off at the field house for football and the girls would go get doughnuts for breakfast before they had to be at school, but for reasons he'd kept to himself, Artie went to football practice with Mike who had departed about ten minutes before Quinn arrived. Artie was now officially avoiding her and her good morning was officially ruined.

She tried not to let it show in front of Alexis. Quinn really did love spending time with the little girl, and she worried what would become of the two of them if she and Artie wound up splitting up. Quinn remembered the sadness in the girl's voice when she told Quinn that she and Brittany "use to be friends" and she didn't want to be someone else this girl, who clearly idolized her, use to be friends with.

Rachel texted her just as they were getting into Quinn's car to ask if she wanted to meet up before school to go over the list Rachel had made for her. Quinn asked if Alexis minded if Rachel joined them. Alexis, a lover of all things Glee Club, thought that was awesome. A short ten minutes later Quinn and Alexis were at the bakery waiting on Rachel.

They weren't waiting long when the tiny diva made her entrance. "Hello, girls," Rachel said, "I commend you on your choice of breakfast eateries. This place has the most delicious scones in town. I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long. I attempted to do something different with my hair this morning to go with my more fashionable clothes but I didn't like it, so I opted to braid it rather than trying to straighten it. You both look lovely today…"

"What's wrong with her?" asked Alexis while Rachel was still chattering away. "She's not always like this, is she? She wasn't like this at the pool party."

"No, this is ridiculously hyper even for her. Rachel," Quinn called but it didn't stop or even slow her chattering. "Rachel!" She barked, calling on her years of yelling over cheerleaders to her advantage.

"Yes, Quinn?" Rachel snapped to attention.

"How many cups of coffee have you already had today?"

"Only one," she said, but completely failing at hiding her restlessness, "Okay, so that one cup might have been a double shot of espresso."

"Oh dear God," Quinn groaned.

"That's bad?" Alexis asked for clarification.

"Yeah, Lexi, imagine Artie made his special Kool Aid and then you drank the entire picture all at once," Quinn explained. "Plus she's really energetic to begin with."

"Oh, wow!"

"Yeah," Quinn agreed. "Okay, you're having chamomile tea we're stopping on the way to school to get you a banana. If you're banging off the walls like this, then you're going to crash and you'll be dragging come Glee."

"They have fruit for sale here," Rachel informed them, now trying to reign herself in.

They ordered, Alexis managed to talk Quinn into letting her get chocolate milk, Quinn started on her second cup of coffee, and they found a table. Rachel handed over the assembled list and Quinn could only shake her head. "Rachel, I said a short list. This is five pages long."

"Yes, but look at it," Rachel said pointing Quinn's attention back at the booklet. "It isn't just five pages of song titles. It also lists their relative merits at sending the message you want to send as well as the difficultly I think you'd have in successfully performing each song on a scale of one to five."

Once again Quinn couldn't help but shake her head as she flipped through the list which actually only listed eight songs. "Rachel, it's a good thing you're a good person. If you ever used your powers for evil, the world would be in great danger. I find it interesting that you think Mary J. Blige is on a difficulty of 3."

"I mention again that you rock a James Brown song," Rachel said, "I mean, yes, the chorus line of dancing pregnant girls was… odd, but the vocals were superlative. You are capable of much more than you give yourself credit for."

"So what's the message you want to send?" asked Alexis.

"I'm singing to your brother. We're kind of in a weird place right now, so I just want to make sure he understands that I really want to be with him and I'll do whatever I need to fix thing between us."

"I don't want you guys to break up," Alexis said softly, "Besides Stacy, you're like my best friend."

"We aren't going to break up, Lexi. I'm going to fix it, but no matter what happens between Artie and me, it won't affect me and you, okay?" Quinn offered up her right pinky to the girl. "I swear," she said firmly. Alexis smiled brightly and hooked her pinky with Quinn's and they locked fingers.

**X X X X X**

Breakfast was fun but passed far too quickly and soon it was time to drop Alexis off at her school and for Quinn to make her way to McKinley and all the drama therein. The normal first day stuff kept most everyone too busy to pay much attention to harassing anyone. Quinn had found her locker and was shoving all but the basic requirements into it, the basic requirements being one binder, her cell phone, and Rachel's list. She studied the girl's notes as she made her way to homeroom. Inside there were several students were already seated including Rachel and right behind her was Sam, who had seemingly miraculously lost the Bieber-cut some time in the last four days. Quinn made her way over and sat to Rachel's left and noticed the brunette smiling to herself. "What?" Quinn asked as she settled into her chair.

"What are you asking?" Rachel replied.

"I saw that little smile when I sat down, what are you smirking at?

"Nothing…" Rachel said softly shaking her head before speaking up, "it's nothing."

"You weren't sure if I was going to acknowledge you in school were you? Even after all the time we spent together this summer," Quinn said, holding up Rachel's list, "After this, you still thought there was a chance that I was going to go back to being the Old Quinn. Admit it." She kept her tone playful because she knew she had no right to blame Rachel, she had done it before last year.

"Perhaps a little," Rachel said, "Only a tiny fraction of a percent of me had lingering doubts, a tiny fraction of a percent that has now been proven conclusively wrong. I'll not doubt you again."

"I wonder if that's what's on Artie's mind," Quinn said, mostly to herself.

"What about Artie?" asked Sam. Quinn looked back at him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to butt in. I'll shut up."

"It's not a big deal, Sam. We're going through a rough patch the last few days. I'm trying to figure out if there's something I can do to smooth it over. Planning on singing him a song."

"Um, does he know about this rough patch? Because we were over there yesterday and he seemed fine to me. You know, big smiles, laughing, having fun," Sam said. "Seemed fine at football practice this morning."

Quinn buried her face in her hands and growled. "Quinn, what's wrong?" asked Rachel.

"Please tell me I'm not _that_ girl," Quinn said raising her head again, "Tell me that I haven't imagined some dire crisis in my relationship where none exists."

"Quinn, I'm certain you're not that girl."

Quinn sighed, "I guess we'll see."

**X X X X X**

First period was terrible, Mrs. Higgins' AP Calculus class and as was typical of the first day there wasn't a lesson, just fifty minutes to sit around. The problem was that Calculus wasn't required in to graduate, so nearly no one took it and fewer still took AP, so none of Quinn's friends were there to keep her out of her head. Second was a little bit better. It was AP Chemistry which she had with Mike, Tina and Artie. He apologized for taking off earlier and said that Mike was wanting to see what they had of the video so far which required them to leave earlier to watch it in the computer lab before football practice. Quinn wanted to take him at his word since he'd never given her reason to doubt him, but something about it still felt like an excuse. This doubt wasn't helped by Artie choosing to partner with Mike, but Quinn at least had Tina to talk to, and Tina who had seen very little of Quinn over the summer and was naturally nosey had many questions. Third and fourth period were much better. Third was AP Government with Blaine whom Quinn found she got along with rather well. Fourth was English with Brittany, Santana, and Rachel, and the look on Santana's face when Rachel finally got sick of Santana's attitude and told the Latina to back off in flawless Spanish was priceless.

Quinn, Rachel, and Mercedes spent their lunch period in the auditorium working on the number for Glee. When Quinn had finally decided which song to do Mercedes had one thing to say, "You are nuts."

"You say nuts, I say in love," Quinn countered confidently, adding, "Maybe there's no difference." The girls ran through the song as much as time would allow but by the time the bell rang for fifth period, all three of them agreed that the song still needed work so they would meet at Rachel's after school. Fifth period was Miss Runyon's Computer Science class which managed to keep her well distracted with her photography, the website, and actually meeting Haaroon and Chuck the webmasters that she'd been e-mailing and texting for a month now. Sixth was Quinn's Independent Study period so she went back the auditorium to practice a bit more but had trouble getting motivated so she snuck off campus to get a cup of coffee and made it back just in time for Seventh, which was Glee.

She got to the choir room to find it mostly filled already. Kurt sat in the middle of the back row flanked by Blaine and Mercedes. Tina and Mike sat in front of them in the middle row with Santana and Brittany to their left on the far end of the room. Rachel and Sunshine sat on the near end of the front row. Quinn was contemplating where to sit, her instincts tell her to retreat to the safety of Santana and Brittany but she didn't want to look stand-offish by being off the bottom row where Artie had to sit. A moment later her decision was negated when Artie rolled up behind her and said, "Hey, woman. Looking for me?"

"I was," she replied, "how did you know?"

"All the beautiful girls are," he said, his trademark bravado on display.

Quinn took a chance and settled herself onto his lap wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "You are pretty awesome," she said then leaned it give him a brief peck on the lips. It was all still there, all the emotion, the desire, the caring was still there. A mental sigh of relief discharged a great deal of the tension in Quinn's mind.

As if on cue, Finn entered the room and yelled, "WHAT THE HELL?" Sam, who'd entered the room with him quickly and quietly divorced himself from the situation and went up to greet his girlfriend. Artie turned his chair so they were facing the tall boy. "Artie, man, what the hell?"

"Finn, you broke up with her… twice. The last time was months ago," Artie said.

"That's not what I mean," Finn said, "She… she turned Rachel against me."

Quinn stood up as Artie said, "Dude…"

"She did no such thing," Rachel cut him off quickly stomping quickly across the room. "Finn Hudson, you immature jackass don't you dare make a scene because you're jealous that Quinn is happy without you. And as for me, I broke up with you for the reasons I told you. Quinn put considerable effort into not saying anything bad about you because she knew she wouldn't be able to be objective."

"I'm sure she wanted to," Finn said staring hard at the pink haired girl.

"You're probably right, Finn," Rachel fired back, "but wanting to say something mean and stopping yourself is a _good thing_. It's called impulse control and it's something this group is in rather short supply of, myself included."

"Fine," Finn said, then again a little louder, "Fine, you want to be friends with her," he said to Rachel, "You want to date her," he said to Artie. "She's gonna hurt both of you. That's all she ever does to anyone. She's nothing but a huge bitch!"

No sooner had the last word escaped his lips as Finn was sudden yanked downward. Artie had two handfuls of his shirt and had managed to drag the tall boy down to one knee. Everyone else standing nearby was shocked at the sudden turn of events. "You don't call her that," Artie said fury evident in his voice. "I know you were raised better than to call anyone that but I am putting you on notice right now, you absolutely are not allowed to call my girlfriend that word. If you do and I find out about it, I don't know how, Finn, but I will make sorry, and trust me, I'll find out. I'm friends with Tina, Mercedes, and Santana and between them they know everything that goes on around here. Don't piss me off, Finn." Artie let go of him and Finn staggered back to his feet and away from Artie.

"And for the record, Finn," Rachel said, pointing at Artie, "that is what a _good_ boyfriend does when someone insults their girlfriend." With that Rachel turned on her heel and marched back to her seat.

"That's my A.B!" Puck hollered. Apparently, he and Lauren had made their way into the room during the commotion.

Artie and Quinn sat next Rachel in the front row, and after they were settled in Quinn looked at him and said, "A.B?"

"Ass-istant Badass."

Quinn sniggered and said, "He's such a dork."

Late as usual, Mr. Schuester finally made his way into the room, set down his gear. "Okay, guys, welcome back," said Mr. Schuester, "As you can see we have some new, but not unfamiliar faces. Now normally we have new prospective members sing a song to audition, however I don't imagine there's anyone here that doubts Sunshine and Blaine's singing abilities, so I thought that we'd forego their auditions in lieu of them participating in this week's assignment. Anyone have an issue with that?" The question was met with silence, a couple of people shaking their heads. "Okay, then this week's assignment comes to us from Rachel and Quinn," he crossed the room to the white board and wrote Breaking Out on it. "We have a tendency, not just as a club, but as people to stick to what is familiar. You guys have your favorite styles of music and you like to do them, and there's nothing wrong with that, but occasionally it's good to break out of your routines and try something new. You may surprise yourself with what you find. So that's the assignment, getting out of your routines. You can do whatever song you want so long as it's of a genre or style that isn't typical for you. Rachel, Kurt no show tunes. Mercedes, Santana no R&B, no Motown. Finn, it's time to come out of the 80's bud. Puck, gentiles have made many great musical contributions to the world. Mike, I want you to sing something, even if you're bad at it. Tina…"

"Get through a song without breaking out into tears?" the Asian girl prompted, "Got it." The rest of the club chuckled at her dig at herself.

"Mr. Shue," Santana said, standing up "I've got something for this. I don't have sheet music or anything but Brad may know it."

"Alright, way to step up, Santana," he said gesturing for her to take the floor as he took a seat.

Santana talked quietly with the ever silent piano player. He nodded to whatever she said. Santana dragged a stool in front of the piano, sat on it, and pulled her hair down, fluffing it out. "You guys aren't gonna tell Coach I took my hair down, right? Oh, speaking of that, you guys probably have questions. Yes, Britt and I are back on Cheerios, but we already talked about this and if Sylvester starts any of her shit this year with Cheerios versus Glee, then she can go to hell."

"That's good to hear," Mr. Schuester said, "Thank you, Santana."

"Yeah, no worries," she said, "Okay, now that that's out of the way. Maestro, music!" Brad began playing the piano softly and slowly. This was definitely outside of Santana's usual style. He played unaccompanied for about thirty seconds before Santana began to sing much more softly than any other song anyone had heard her sing.

_She's got a way about her_

_Don't know what it is_

_But I know that I can't live without her_

Santana started off looking at the club in general but even before the end of first verse her eyes had drifted over to Brittany who smiled at her girlfriend.

_She's got a way of pleasin'_

_Don't know why it is_

_But there doesn't have to be a reason_

_Anyway_

The smile that graced Santana's mouth wasn't the sinister, sarcastic smirk that most of the club was use to seeing. Most of them didn't know what to make of it.

_She's got a smile that heals me_

_I don't know what it is_

_But I have to laugh when she reveals me_

At this point Santana had pretty much given up any pretense that she was singing this song to anyone one but Brittany as she wiped away a tear that had escaped her left eye.

_She's got a way of talkin'_

_I don't know what it is_

_But it lifts me up when we are walkin'_

_Anywhere_

Santana wasn't the only one that was moved by the song. Brittany was positively beaming; shaking in her seat she was so happy that Santana had finally mustered the courage to sing to her in front of the group.

_She comes to me when I'm feelin' down_

_Inspires me without a sound_

_She touches me and I get tuuuuuurned around_

_She's got a way of showin'_

_How I make her feel_

_And I find the strength to keep on goin'_

Santana was beginning to have some serious trouble maintaining her composure. Her voice was shaky and her eyes were welling up big time.

_She's got a liiiiiight around her_

_And everywhere she goes_

_A million dreams of love surround her_

_Everywhere_

The group was pretty much all floored at the emotion Santana was putting into the song, and even more so because Santana had tears running down both cheeks and made no motion to wipe them or conceal them.

_She comes to me when I'm feelin' down_

_Inspires me without a sound_

_She touches me and I get tuuuuurned arooooound_

Brittany clutched her hands to her chest, tears also running down her cheeks.

_She's got a smile that heals me_

_I don't know what it is_

_But I have to laugh when she reveals me_

Santana's voice was threatening to break on her at any second. It took all of her considerable willpower to keep the last little shred of her composure through the last verse.

_She's got a way about her_

_D-don't know what it is_

_But I know that I-I can't live without her_

Santana made it through but not without breaking a couple of times. Before she was done, Brittany was up out of her seat and down to Santana just as the Latina's knees started to wobble, her whole body overcome with emotion. Brittany wrapped her up in an enormous hug and whispered, "I'm so proud of you, Santana. I love you so much."

"I love you, too," Santana said, not whispering.

The rest of the club was applauding the performance but when Santana spoke a couple of them stopped. "Did she just admit it?" Kurt looked first to Mercedes, then to Tina.

"Damn right I did," Santana answered for them. "I am in love with Brittany and she loves me back and anyone that doesn't like that can suck it." Brittany giggled at her.

"Thank God," Kurt said, "You're denial was getting to be a little old. I'm very happy for you guys."

"Whatever," Santana shot back, "you're just tired of being the only openly gay kid in the school."

"Um, he's not," Blaine pointed out.

"Oh, yeah," Santana replied, "Thanks."

"Uh, I have a question," Mercedes raised her hand, "Who in the hell are you and what did you do with Santana Lopez?"

Santana replied, "You mean that closet case that had the hottest girl in school chasing after her and couldn't accept herself out of fear of what some pathetic mouth breather might say behind her back? I couldn't deal with her crap anymore so I shanked that bitch in the shower."

"Are you okay with all this, Artie?" asked Mr. Schuester, the oft clueless teacher apparently missing the fact that he was currently holding another girl's hand.

"Mr. Shue, how about I show you how okay with this I am?" He released Quinn's hand and rolled his way across the room to a guitar stand against the back wall. He retrieved the guitar and quickly made his way back to the near side of the room, parking himself unmistakably in front of Quinn.

"That's a weird looking guitar, bro," Puck said.

"Yeah, kinda. It's called a resonator guitar. I'll show you what it does." Artie began to strum the guitar in a slow, steady blues riff for a full minute without singing. Quinn was now officially lost. First she thought he was being distant and weird and she thought they had a problem and that she might be losing him, then his friends say not to worry about them so she tried to relax about it. Then he seemingly had a good reason for being gone this morning, so she tried to let it all go, and he shows up to Glee like the same old amazing Artie and she finally does relax and assumed it was all in her head but then he picked up this guitar and started playing the blues, a musical genre not typically associated with a happy relationship. That tired cliché of an emotional rollercoaster suddenly seemed apropos. Finally, Artie started to sing in what Quinn could only describe as an amazingly sexy blues voice. Artie left long gaps in between each line to draw the song out for dramatic effect. He held the vowel sounds in at least one word in almost every line

_Eeeevery mornin', _

_Eveeeeery evenin', _

_Every day IIIII, _

_IIII think of you _

_The way I love yooooou, _

_Through… and… through _

_When IIII'm with you, _

_It feels liiiiike heaven _

_You're aaaan angel, _

_Hoooooldin' me _

_Your sweet, sweet loviiiiiin', _

_It sets me free _

_And in myyyyy wildest, _

_I-mag-i-na-tion, _

_I coooould never, _

_I-mag-ine you _

_Loviiiin' me as much as, _

_As… I… do… you _

Artie jammed out here as the whole club sat quiet and still. For all Artie knew, though, he and Quinn were the only ones in the room. He was looking dead at her and her back at him. Quinn wanted to attack Artie with kisses, and Artie could tell just by looking at her. However, she wouldn't interrupt the song to do it, so Artie drew out his improvised jam just a little bit longer before getting back to the second half of the song.

_And it may be winter, _

_It maaaay be fall _

_I might have plenty, _

_Or nothin' at all _

_But baby I'll be theeeere, _

_Whenever you call, _

_Whenever you call _

_'Cause eeeevery mornin', _

_And eveeeery evenin', _

_Every day IIII, _

_IIII think of you _

_The way I love yoooou, _

_Through and through _

_The way I love yoooou, _

_Through… and… Through_

When the song was over and the guitar was out of Artie's hands, Quinn pounced on him, almost tipping his chair over backwards, lips mashed hard together, her hands on his face, his hands around her waist, pulling them closer together. After a minute or so of this, Mr. Schuester called for them to knock it off. Quinn wrapped one arm around his neck resting her forehead against his. "Hey, Quinn," he said quietly, "I'm sorry if I've been kinda distant and weird the last couple of days. When you told me the other day, I already knew that this was how I wanted to tell you, but I knew if we got into one of our big long all-night talks I wouldn't be able to hold off telling you."

Quinn slapped him on the arm playfully. "Jerk," she said, though she couldn't harness any anger to go behind it, "You had me freaking the hell out, thinking I'd said it too soon and that I was going to lose you over it. Then your stupid friends had me thinking that I was imagining which made me think I was a stupid crazy bitch trying sabotage the best thing that's ever happened to me. I would be seriously mad as hell at you right now… y'know, if that wasn't the most romantic thing possibly ever."

Artie's only reply, "I love you."

Quinn sighed and let go of whatever hostility she had in her. "Say it again."

"I love you, Beautiful."

"I love you, too, My Prince."

**A/N: Santana's song is "She's Got A Way" by Billy Joel, Artie's is a slightly reworked version of "Every Morning" by blues legend Keb' Mo'**


	22. Breaking Out

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: Sorry, loyal readers. The holidays are going to slow my output way, way down. I have a huge family and I work in retail, so my free time over the next month isn't voluminous. Anyway, a lot of SongFic this chapter but there is character development interspersed. Hope you all enjoy.**

**Chapter 22**

**Breaking Out**

Lauren followed Artie with a pretty good rendition of "Get UR Freak On" by, as she put it, her "fellow Big Beautiful Woman" Missy Elliot to round out the day in Glee. Quinn had refused to extract herself from Artie's lap after his song and was now actively preventing them from leaving as well.

"One more time," Quinn said with a big smile.

"I..." Artie drew out as long as he could, "love you... so much."

"And I..." Quinn drew it out as well, "am never going to get tired of hearing that."

"And I... have football practice."

"And I… am supposed to go to Rachel's to practice my song, which by the way, way to show me up on an assignment that was my freaking idea. Thanks, you're a wonderful boyfriend." Quinn crossed her arms over her chest and hitched an eyebrow, trying and utterly failing to look upset.

"Don't be hatin," he smiled, "because first off hatin's bad," Quinn giggled, "and secondly, you know I can't turn off the awesome. It just comes pouring out of me like a burst water line. I can't control it."

Quinn laughed while she gave the boy one more kiss before standing up and allowing him on his way. "Okay, Prince Awesome, go on your merry way. Yell until you're blue in the face. Just save yourself enough voice to call me later."

"Alright, beautiful," Artie said, "I'll talk to you tonight."

As Artie made his way out of the choir room he was met by the rest of The A-Team waiting on him. "We need your help, Colonel," Puck said.

Just outside the other exit to the choir room, Quinn was met with Mercedes and Rachel. "So it would appear that you were not and are not losing him," Rachel said. "I suppose that you don't necessarily need to go all out in your performance, now."

Quinn hiked an eyebrow at the short girl and said, "Did you not just see that performance? I mean, come on, he not only did he tell me he loves me in song but managed to find a blues love song, like anyone's ever heard of that before. To top it all off, he was freaking amazing. No, Artie has thrown the gauntlet down. It must… wait," Quinn gave Rachel a quizzical look, "since when do you try to talk people _out_ of performing?"

"Seriously?" Mercedes concurred.

"I just thought that now that there is less to prove to Artie that you might not want to come over to dinner tonight," Rachel said.

"Why? Are your dad's planning on killing me for everything I've done to you?"

"No," Rachel said, "because they know about the slushies and the names and the goings on of the first three years of our knowing one another, they also know about the events of this summer and the picture and the Cheerios uniform and the birthday party…"

"Cheerios uniform?" Mercedes inquired to Quinn.

"Explain later," Quinn said.

Rachel continued undaunted by the interruption, "…so they understand that you have changed and as I've said they wish to meet you and have been asking for over a week now, but I simply thought that given that you no longer need to come over you might not want to. I mean…"

"Oh my God, Rachel," Quinn interrupted, "I thought, we settled this in homeroom."

"Settled what?"

Hands slid through pink hair as Quinn tried to not get frustrated with the brunette, "We're friends, you and I. Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry are friends, and I know I said I'd stop apologizing but here it goes one more time. I'm sorry that I did so much to wreck your confidence in yourself that you won't believe that, but we are friends and as such I want to do friend things, going to your house, meeting you dads, we've already done one shopping trip, I'm up for more." Quinn glanced over to Mercedes and hiked an eyebrow at her before continuing, "Or is it that you're scared that I'll do a better job on this assignment than you and don't want to help me?"

Mercedes smiled at Quinn and said, "You know, Q, you may have a point there. Everybody already knows what Rachel is capable of vocally. We have room to surprise people with our stuff."

"Welcome to The Ridiculous Show starring Quinncedes," said Rachel sarcastically, neither of the other girls could ever remember Rachel being sarcastic before, "on today's show, your hosts use reverse psychology that a five year old could see though. You honestly think I don't see what you guys are doing?"

"It don't matter if you see what we're doin," Mercedes said.

"Right, the only thing that matters is, whether or not it's working," Quinn said with a smirk certain that it was.

Rachel huffed briefly and said, "I dislike both of you right now. You will both be receiving the silent treatment for the duration of our journey to my house." She turned and took off in the direction of the parking lot.

The girls looked at each other with barely veiled grins on their faces. Mercedes said, "She talks more than me and Kurt put together and she's punishing us with ten minutes of silence?"

"Oh Mercedes," Quinn said putting an arm across her friend's shoulders, "I've never been to Rachel's house before. It should take me at least half an hour to get there without her meticulous directions. Want to take bets on how long it takes her to break her self-imposed vow of silence?"

"I'd say about the third time you purposefully go the wrong way," Mercedes said.

"I'm betting on two."

It took almost an hour and four deliberate wrong turns but the vow was broken. The verbal tirade about childish behavior and wasting precious rehearsal time was epic. Neither Quinn nor Mercedes dared to point out that the silent treatment was fairly childish in itself for fear of prolonging the diva's rant. Dinner with the Berry family went well, both men gladly forgiving Quinn all her past transgressions for how deliriously happy Rachel was now being friends with her and for once again chasing Finn Hudson out of their lives. Quinn denied involvement in that but they found the confluence of events too coincidental to believe otherwise. Glee rehearsals also went well. The girls worked out Quinn's song. Rachel, of course, accepted Quinn's challenge to see who did a better job stepping out of their comfort zones, with the added stipulation that it had to express something in both of the girls, essentially so that Rachel didn't go off and sing some opera piece or a polka song that was massively out of everyone's wheelhouse just because she could.

The second day of Glee started with Puck standing in front of the group and noticeably absent was Mike. Artie assure Mr. Schuester that he was just running a few minutes late and not only would he be here, but that he would make his solo debut as well. But first was Puck who played a soft and slow rendition of Iron and Wine's "Trapeze Swinger" and it was beautiful and hypnotic just all around amazing. His performance was met with an enthusiastic round of applause. Notably Rachel was the first one, up out of her seat applauding vigorously with a bright smile on her face until a death glare from Lauren calmed her spirit. After which Rachel prodded Quinn to volunteer to go next but Quinn refused to try to follow that act. A hushed (but not really _that_ hushed) discussion between the two girls was cut off by Artie rolling to the center of the room. "I've been asked to make the next introduction, but before I do, Tina, your presence has been requested in the front row." The Asian girl looked confused but did as she was asked sitting in the empty chair next to where Artie had been moments before. "Alright," he continued as the band started playing "Also Sprach Zarathustra", "now that our audience is in place, it is my honor and distinct pleasure to introduce to you… all the way from Memphis Tennessee, The King of Rock 'n' Roll, Mr. Elvis Presley." As Artie wheeled back to his spot between Quinn and Tina, the band transitioned into Elvis's traditional entrance music "CC Rider" and in walked Mike Chang in a white sequined bell bottom jumpsuit with a very high collar, complete with a cape, a big black wig with porkchop sideburns, and platform shoes.

The entire class was laughing at the sight as Mike hit all the typical Elvis poses. Tina was nearly in tears she was so tickled. Just as the song reached its apex, Mike cut the band off with a wave of his arm. He nodded at Brad and the piano player began the slow music of the next song and all the guys started humming along from their seats. Tina quickly realized the song and smiled, no longer laughing. "Wise men say," Mike sang beautifully, "only fools rush in," He sauntered over to his girlfriend with a great deal of swagger, "but I can't help… falling in love with you." Mike got down on one knee in front of Tina. "Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can't help… falling in love wiiiith you?" He stood back up and moved back to the middle of the floor. "As the river flows… surely to the sea…" crossing slowly back to Tina, "Darling so it goes, some things are meant to be." He reached out a hand to her, which she accepted, "Take my hand. Take my whole life too, for I can't help… falling in love… wiiiith you." Mike cut the band off again.

A swift yank on the jumpsuit and it broke away revealing black jeans and an unbuttoned black dress shirt over a black and white striped tee. He kicked off the platforms to reveal black dancing shoes. "1, 2, 3, 4!" he counted quickly, and the drummer banged out hard, "The warden threw a party in the county jail!" The club clapped along as Mike emulated the dance moves for the song perfectly, "The prison band was there they began to wail. The band was jumpin and the joint began to swing. You should have heard those knocked out jailbirds sing! Let's rock!" he motioned for the others to join him. "Everybooody let's rock! Everybody in the whole cell block…"

"Was dancing to the Jailhouse Rock!" everyone (including Mr. Schuester) sang together as they all joined in dancing.

Mike made his way over to the band, pointed at Marcus, the sax player, and sang, "Spider Murphy played the tenor saxophone," next he pointed at Justin on trombone, "Little Joe was blowin' on the slide trombone." A two handed point was thrown at Finn who had taken over on drums since he wasn't much of a dancer but could wail on the drums, "The drummer boy from Illinois went crash, boom, bang. The whole rhythm section was a purple gang. Let's rock! Everyboooody let's rock! Everybody on the whole cell block…"

"Was dancing to the Jailhouse Rock!" they sang in unison once more.

Mike swept Tina up in his arms still dancing and sang, "Yeah, dancing to the Jailhouse Rock, yeah dancing to the Jailhouse Rock!" and cut the band off again, this time for good.

The entire club clapped and cheered all around Mike. Most of the guys clapped him on the shoulders. Tina wrapped him up in a hug and kissed him chastely before saying, "I love you so much. I'm so proud of you." Everyone retook their seats and Mike pulled up a chair next to Tina.

"Mike, that was amazing," said Mr. Schuester, "What make you think to do Elvis?"

"My mom's a huge fan," he said, "I've been working on my voice for a while now, at least my confidence in my voice, and Artie suggested doing someone known for singing and dancing and as soon as he said that I knew what to do."

"Well it was amazing. You did a great job," the teacher said.

"I wholeheartedly concur," Rachel piped up, "In fact, Mike, if you were willing to teach all of us the moves, I think Jailhouse Rock would make an excellent group number for Sectionals."

"Really?" he said.

"Absolutely," Rachel replied.

"I'm not sure about singing lead at competition," Mike rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Remember what you were just saying about confidence, Mike," Mr. Schuester said, "You made that song yours. Elvis himself would be proud of that performance. Right now, you are definitely at the top of the short list, so practice."

"Holy crap," Mike said softly to himself.

"Don't worry, baby," Tina whispered to him, "We'll work on it together. I'm sure Brittany will help if you asked."

Elsewhere in the room, Rachel looked over to Quinn but was cut off before by the blonde's expression which adequately explained that they were not following that act either, and before the brunette could argue, Finn spoke up from behind them, "Mr. Shue, We've got something next."

"Alright, Finn, come on up," Mr. Schuester said.

"I'm sorry, Rachel," Sunshine said, "He asked for my help with the project. I didn't realize what he was doing until it was too late to back out."

"It's fine," Rachel said. "I really don't care what he does at this point. Just do your best."

"Thanks," she replied joining Finn on the floor. The duo proceeded to sing an okay rendition of "I Run to You" by Lady Antebellum, okay because firstly the song wasn't one of the band's best, secondly because Finn and Sunshine had zero vocal chemistry together and lastly because Country was neither of their strong suits. The song was obviously chosen by Finn for the express purpose of trying to make Rachel jealous because Rachel and Puck had sang "Need You Now" last year for the same reason, but Finn wasn't even _trying _to look interested in Sunshine, so the whole thing kind of just came off as sad and uninspired, especially compared to the previous two numbers.

"I think that's our cue, ladies," Quinn said as popped out of her seat followed quickly by Mercedes and Rachel. Quinn plugged in her iPod and cued up the instrumental track for her song before walking back to stand facing the group.

"Quinn," Rachel said and nodded at Mr. Schuester.

Quinn huffed and rolled her eyes before saying, "Mr. Shue, I've been asked to inform you that Rachel will be presenting her own project tomorrow and it will become obvious very soon that this won't qualify for Mercedes so they are just here as back-up." As soon as she finished the brief speech she looked back to Rachel and said, "Happy?"

When the brunette saw the teacher nodding in understanding she replied, "Yes, ready when you are."

"Good," Quinn said, "hit the music."

A thumping drum and base beat started playing through the speakers and Rachel and Mercedes started a chorus drawn out Hey's before Quinn joined in for the first chorus, the three girls harmonized, "I don't know what I would do... do without you, in my life boy. I don't know if I could live… live without you. You bring me joy."

Mercedes and Rachel fell silent for the first chorus. The three girls all danced in time with the music and Quinn could only hope that she didn't look too ridiculously white breaking out the hip hop dance moves they had settled on. "You know if the time is right, I don't wanna fuss n fight. I just wanna let you know I'm feeling good tonight. I want you to take my hand and promise you'll be cool. Cause I know you like the way that I mooooove." Quinn busted out a couple quick moves and Artie and Brittany both whooped at her. "Oh, oh, oh boy you bring me joy." She smiled at Artie who was already smiling back and clapping in time, "Some try to play me," her eyes reflexively shot to Finn, "But they can't fade me." Looking back to Artie she sang, "Oh, oh, oh boy you've got it goin on, and you make me happy.

"Happy," Rachel and Mercedes echoed.

"So veeeery happyyyyy!" Quinn finished the verse.

Once again all three girls sang the chorus, "I don't know what I would do… do without you, in my life boy." Quinn danced forward a couple of steps to bring herself within reach of Artie and held up her hand with her fingers splayed apart, "I don't know if I could live… live without you." Artie reached up to intertwine their fingers and she squeezed their hands together. "You bring me joy."

She let his hand go and stepped back to her previous mark for the second verse. "You know when I think of you I'm thinkin of myself. I just wanna be with you, my friend, and noooo one else. It's not hard to say what I feel because you know that my love is for reeeeaaaal." The second half of this verse Quinn wasn't fond of since it was a little more sexual than her hang ups wanted to deal with but she was going to have to push through that eventually, so it was time to take the first baby step. "Oh, oh, oh boy I'll be your toy. Come on and play with me and never leave me. Oh, oh, oh boy you've got it goin on, and you satisfy me."

"Yes, you do," Rachel and Mercedes harmonized.

"You saaaatisfy meeee."

Rachel and Mercedes sand the bridge, "So much joy… in my life… be my man… and I'll be your girl." Quinn joined back in for what was going to be the last chorus since the third verse contained more than a hint of sexual propositioning and she didn't want to give Artie the wrong idea. "I don't know what I would do… do without you, in my life boy. I don't know if I could live… live without you. You bring me joy. Yeah, Yoooooou bring me joy." Quinn finished off by flopping gently down onto Artie's lap only a moment or so before the last bell of the day rang.

As everyone was filing out, once again Quinn was perched on Artie's lap and he made their exit for them. Just outside the door the couple ran into Brittany and Santana , who said, "So that was pretty dope, Q. Don't get me wrong, I could have gone my whole life without hearing how much he satisfies you and all…"

"It's how the song goes, S," Quinn said.

"Yeah," Brittany agree, "'Sides, you shouldn't be jelly, San. You've got me, and Q had Artie and he's super awesome at sexy time too…" Brittany was suddenly cut off by Santana's hand pressed over her mouth, for which Quinn was thankful. On the one hand it was good to know that Artie was good in bed but she still wasn't quite ready to think about all that just yet. Although she did realize in that instant that, unless she wanted to troll the internet for information, she was going to have to have a very uncomfortable (for her) conversation with Brittany about what exactly was involved in having sex with a paraplegic. She wasn't looking forward to that day.

"So Britts wanted to know if you guys were available for a double date," Santana asked.

Quinn smirked and said, "And because you're whipped you're going along with it?"

"Shit, bitch if you had what I've got, you'd be whipped, too, and damn proud of it," the Latina shot back.

Quinn smiled genuinely at her friend. Then she and Artie glanced at each other briefly. "We'll let you know when," Quinn said.

"Great!" Brittany said leaning to hug both Quinn and Artie briefly before turning back to Santana. The Cheerios linked pinkies and marched off towards the practice field.

"Well," said Quinn, "our social calendar is filling up pretty quickly. I already had to promise that we'd double with Sam and Mercedes. Hope that's okay."

"Sure," he said happily, "but I guess we now need to take every moment we have for just the two of us, huh?"

"Very true," she agreed.

"Ride out to the field house with me?"

Quinn smiled and pecked him on the lips before saying, "I'd love to."

**A/N" Quinn's song is "You Bring Me Joy" by Mary J. Blige, and I really hope this doesn't need explained but Mike sings a medley on "I Can't Help Falling In Love With You" and "Jailhouse Rock" both by Elvis Presley. **


End file.
